But if Gabii was less beautiful and less sumptuous, it had the immeasurable advantage of not being occupied by Domitian. There, for a while, Domitia was free from his hateful society, his endearments and his insults, alike odious to her.
And she enjoyed the rest; she found real soothing to her sore heart in wandering about the garden, and by the lake, and visiting familiar nooks.
Only into the temple of Isis she did not penetrate, the recollection of the vision there seen was too painful to be revived.
On the third day after she had been in the Gabian villa, Celer came out from Rome. He was a plain middle-aged man with a bald head, and a short brusque manner, but such a man as Domitia felt she could trust.
He informed her that Cornelia had been before the Augustus and had entreated him to allow his wife to absent herself from the palace, and from his company. She had made the plea that Domitia Longina was out of health, overstrained by the hurry of exciting events, and that she needed complete rest.
“But I demand more than that,” said she.
“Madam, more than that, my cousin, the Great Mother, dared not ask. The prince was in a rough mood, he was highly incensed at your having withdrawn without his leave, and he saw behind Cornelia’s words the real signification. He behaved to her with great ill-humor, and would give no answer one way or the other—and that means that here you are to remain, till it is his pleasure to recall you.”
“And may that never be,” sighed Domitia.
“The Augustus is moreover much engaged at present.”
“What has he been doing? But stay—tell me now—is there news concerning Sabinus?”