"But thou—and Hermione—and—Marcus?"
"God is all-powerful. We are in his hands."
There came the messenger from the Lady Octavia bearing a pearl anklet as a wedding gift to Virgilia with many greetings and good wishes. And if it were possible, would they all come "to celebrate the Feast of the Grapes, in five days?"
"I will not go," said Claudia. "The Lady Octavia is not to my liking."
"Nor I," added Aurelius, "but we must not be discourteous, she is a good client. It will be an enjoyable feast in this fine weather. Virgilia's cheeks are too pale. She and Martius shall go."
On the day of the Feast, Virgilia was glad to go out into the fresh air, to leave the seamstresses busy sewing in the inner courtyard. They were embroidering fine garments of silk so soft that it could be drawn through a ring. They were hemming and drawing threads, draping and cutting the rich material from Tyre which was to form part of Virgilia's wedding outfit.
The young girl was sad on this beautiful October day when the air was spicy with the whiffs of ripe grapes and pomegranates in the gardens and vineyards. She was thinking of what it would mean to go away from her home, to leave her parents and Martius, to take up another life, and be obedient to the old Senator, who, kind and indulgent as he might be, was, nevertheless, little more than her master, or she, little better than one of her own slaves. Not once, however, did the thought enter her mind that she was a free being, at liberty to rebel and decline this marriage so suddenly arranged for her. It was for her parents to decide what her future should be, and for her to obey.
Early in the morning of the day which they were to pass in the lovely gardens of Octavia, Virgilia ascended a narrow steep staircase and went out upon the flat roof. It was like a garden up here, with trellises and vines. Some late tea-roses were in bloom. The girl broke off one and placed it in the folds of her gown. She could breathe in its sweetness.
Over at one end of the roof—or terrace, as it is called—sat the Old One, making a carpet. Above her head was a gay scarlet and blue awning, to protect her from the sun, still hot, even in cool October.
The slave looked up and smiled when Virgilia came near, motioning to a pile of cushions.