“It is not every one, that has the headstrong spirit of Cinna.”
“A Scythian, who simply cut down all before him, his wife into the bargain, rather than a milksop, that you can knock down with a feather!”
“You know nothing about it, child. But where is Claudia? Why has she left us?”
“She has gone to her own room, I daresay, to cry there. Since yesterday, when my father told her of his determination, she has practised such complete self-control, that her grief must have its way at last.”
But Lucilia was mistaken. Claudia had followed her father, and went into his room close on his heels.
“What do you want?” he asked in surprise, seeing his daughter stand before him, pale, calm, and stately.
“I have a confession to make to you, which has been on my lips ever since yesterday.”
“Well?” said the high-priest, hardly attending.
“Send away the servants.”
“Child, I have no time now for any discussions; in twenty minutes....”