It was too late now, he feared. Claudia had set her heart on this—had been urging it for a long time. She looked brighter this evening, more like herself. Perhaps on the whole, Virgilia would not be any more unhappy in the home which this old man could give her, than she would be married to some young man whom they would choose.
The Senator provided very handsomely for Virgilia, according to the legal document already drawn up by the notary, and this was finally signed by all three contracting parties and by two freedmen brought by the notary to be witnesses.
Then, the little man, after many profound bows and a parting series of sneezes just outside the curtained door, went away. Martius was called and told to bring Virgilia.
A feast was not unusual in the house of Aurelius, and Virgilia anticipated it with pleasure. The memory of her disobedience and daring in the morning had faded from her mind for the moment. Very gaily she took Martius' hand and walked by his side.
"Thou art very beautiful to-night, sister mine," he said, with a boy's admiration for her finery. Virgilia's laugh rang out and the group waiting silently for her arrival, heard it. The Senator smiled, Claudia drew her draperies around her with a hand that trembled a little. Aurelius frowned. He wished with all his heart that he had never signed that document which bound her to this man.
"It is my fine clothes," replied Virgilia. "A peacock would be nothing without his gay feathers. What is the feast to-night, Martius?"
"I know not. Perhaps some friends of father's have come to eat and drink with us."
The Senator rose with difficulty as the radiant girl entered, led by
Martius.
Amazed, Virgilia looked at her mother.
"I was called," she said, and she grew very pale.