“I believe, madam, she has been frightened by that unscrupulous impostor, Elymas, or Ascleparion, or whatever he is called. I do not know particulars, but believe that he pretended to show her the future.”
“The future! Delicious! And what did she see?”
“That I cannot say, but she has looked wan ever since, neither smiles nor speaks, but sits, when the sun shines, on the balustrade above the water, looking into it, as in a dream. I hear that she holds converse with none, save her maid, Euphrosyne.”
“I wonder what she has seen! Anything concerning me?”
“Madam, that braggart and intriguer is made up of lies. He has frightened her with pretended predictions. If I might advise, I would counsel his expulsion from the house.”
“I should like to hear what are the chances for Flavius Vespasian. I think I shall inquire myself. I knew Vespasian once, of course he is vastly my senior. If he be successful, he may get a proconsulship for our Lamia. He! Flavius Vespasian a Cæsar! There is push for you! As the Gods love me, there is nothing like push. I must go to Rome. Positively two years retirement for a widow is unreasonable. In the good old days of the Republic one was thought enough. I would not have the Republic back for anything else, though of course we all talk about Liberty and Cato, and all that sort of thing—it is talk—nothing else. I must go to Rome. Flavius Sabinus is præfect of the city, and he is the elder brother of Vespasian. I might show him some little inconspicuous civilities—give a little cosy, quiet supper. By the way—yes, he is married to an old hunks, I remember. Oh! if his brother gets to the top, he can divorce her. Yes, positively I shall not be able to breathe till I get back to Rome. By the way, draw me up on a couple of tablets some moral philosophizing suitable to widowhood, pepper it well with lines from lyric poets. I will learn it all by heart in my litter, and serve out as occasion offers. I positively must be home before the Ides; why—” with a start of pleasure—“The Ides of December! that is the dedication feast of the temple of Tellus in the Carinæ. There you have it! Devotion to the gods—an excuse for a little supper—a wee little supper—but so good and so nicely turned out.”
CHAPTER XIV.
A LITTLE SUPPER.
Longa Duilia and her entire household had returned to the capital, and were installed in the family mansion in the Carinæ.