“Forsooth, you are bold enough,” said the woman, who called to another in the same dress.
“Here, Julia, here! This child says she is come to be admitted to the discipleship.”
“Send her off,” was the scornful reply; “she looks like it, forsooth. Verily, send her off, nor waste thy own time in prating. Why, child, those who aspire to such an office as this do not come to present themselves like beggars.”
Hyacintha’s breast heaved, and tears sprang to her eyes.
Clœlia now spoke—
“The maiden has suffered perils on the way from Britain. She was brought with her brother to my house three days ago. The ships were beset by pirates, and everything the maiden possessed is lost. My son, the brave Caius, brought a small galley safe into the Portus Augusti a few days past, and he can tell you of the truth of my story.”
“I wear upon my breast,” Hyacintha faltered, “a pierced gold coin attached to a chain. This coin bears on it the letters of my father’s house, and his name.
“I bore with me,” she continued, “a letter and many precious things addressed to the great lady, Terentia Rufilla, but the pirate ship boarded that on which my baggage was placed, and I reached Rome in a sorry plight.”
There was now a very perceptible change in the manner of the two women. The family of Rufilla was one to win respect, and the elder said—
“Will it please you to follow me?”