It was not till the Goths and Vandals overflowed the classic world, that the supper was postponed until the evening.
The Roman citizen’s day was from dawn till noon. Then he had his snooze and his bath, and the remainder of the day was devoted to the mighty meal and to reading, conversation, and amusement.
“I am so pleased to see you,” said Longa Duilia, stepping forward to receive the Præfect of Rome, to her little supper.
He was a gray-headed, plain, blunt man, with very ordinary features; he was attended by two lictors, and by his son, Sabinus.
“I thank you, madam, for the courteous invitation.”
“I could kill myself with vexation not to have made your acquaintance earlier. You see, for some years I have been at Antioch, with my dearest husband, whose sword—that sword which drank the blood of Germans, Parthians and Armenians—excuse these tears—you see it—suspended yonder. But, as I was saying, we have been from Rome so long, and since my return I have lived in such seclusion, that we have not met—and yet, considering our relationship——”
“My dear lady, I was unaware that I was entitled to such an honor.”
“Oh! yes, of course, cousins.”
“Cousins!”
“Through Vespasia Polla, your mother. What a sweet creature she was! So distinguished in her manner. She had such an intelligent face, and, as I remember her, the remains of great beauty. Of course I was then quite a mite of a child.”