ve paid a high price for thee that thou shouldst go to
sleep all day upon that trestle?"

And the girl, roused from semi-somnolence, would pull herself together
with a little jerk, would straighten her shoulders and lift her chin,
whilst a quickly smothered sigh of weariness would escape her lips.

The air was heavy both within and without, with the presage of a coming
storm. It had been terribly hot the last few days. The weather-wise--for
there were many such at this time in Rome--had prophesied that Jupiter
would send his thunders roaring before very long, and the feeling of
thunder in the air caused the model to feel very sleepy, and on the
forehead of Dea Flavia beads of perspiration would appear at the roots
of tiny fair curls.

She was working with a will but with strange, fretful movements, like
one whose mind seems absent from the present task. Short sighs of
impatience escaped her parted lips at intervals and a frown appeared and
disappeared fitfully between her brows.

"Chin up, girl ... shoulders straight!" came in curt admonitions once or
twice to the drowsy model.

Whereupon from the furthest corner of the room Licinia would emerge, rod
in hand, to emphasise the necessity of keeping awake when a beloved
mistress so desired it.

"Let her be, Licinia," said Dea Flavia with angry impatience when for
the fifth time now the model fell in a huddled heap, with nose almost
touching her knees, and heavy lids falling over sleepy eyes. "It's no
use ... there is something in the air to-day. I cannot work.... Phew!...
methinks I feel the approach of thunder."

She threw down her modelling tools with a fretful gesture and then
nervily began to destroy her morning's work, patting the clay aimlessly
here and there until once more it became a shapeless mass.

"That lazy baggage hath spoilt thy pleasure," said Licinia gruffly; "but
I'll teach her----"

"No, no, good Licinia!" interposed the young girl with a weary smile.
"Teach her nothing to-day.... The air is too heavy for serious lessons.
Send her away and bring me water for my hands."

Then as Licinia--muttering various dark threats--drove the frightened
girl before her, Dea Flavia breathed a sigh of relief. Her hands were
covered with clay, so she stood quite still waiting for the reappearance
of Licinia with the water; and all the while the frown on her face grew
darker and the look of trouble in her eyes more pronounced.

Soon the old woman returned with