And yet—no, not wholly uninterrupted was the meeting and sweet converse, for the father said:
“My darling, hast thou no word for Lucius?”
“Lamia! He is here?”
The father, Cnæus Domitius Corbulo, with a smile turned and beckoned.
Then a young man, with pleasant, frank face, came up. He had remained at a distance, when father and daughter met, but had been unable to withdraw his eyes from the happy group.
“Domitia, you have not forgotten your old playmate, have you?”
With a light blush like the tint on the petal of the rose of June, the girl extended her hand.
“Nay, nay!” said Corbulo. “A gentler, kinder greeting, after so long a separation.”
Then she held up her modest cheek, and the young man lightly touched it with his lips.
She drew herself away and said: