r eyelids, and all night long she tossed about
restlessly on her couch listening to the sounds that came from the city
in rebellion, counting them out as they died away one by one.

She had gone to her room quite early in the day; her guests she knew
were being well looked after, and she could not bear to remain in the
studio whose every corner reminded her of that powerful personality
which had lately filled it, and whose very walls still echoed with the
sound of that rough voice, rendered at times so exquisitely tender.

Blanca attended on her and put her to bed for she could not bear to have
Licinia near her. The old woman's gossip jarred upon her nerves and she
was physically afraid to hear indifferent lips utter the name of the
praefect of Rome.

Only the call, "Hail Taurus Antinor Caesar! Hail!" which still came half
the night through from afar dulled her agony of mind for a few seconds
when it struck upon her ear. It set her wondering, thus allowing her
momentarily to forget her misery. Then she would lie, wide-eyed, looking
upwards and pondering.

Who was this god whom Taurus Antinor worshipped?

Who was he and what had he done? All she knew was that he had died upon
a cross, the most ignominious death mortal man could suffer, and the
praefect of Rome, the proud Roman patrician, had been content to obey
him as a slave.

Who was he and what had he done? On this she pondered half the night
through, while fever coursed through her veins and her brows were moist
and aching, her heart palpitating with pain.

The dawn found her wearied and sick. But she rose when Blanca came to
her in the first hour. She summoned Licinia and all her women and
ordered them to dress her in one of her richest robes. She looked very
girlish and very pale when she stood decked out in the embroidered tunic
which she had chosen; it was of a soft material, clinging to her
graceful figure in long straight folds, there was some elaborate
embroidery round the hem, below which her feet peeped out clothed in
sandals of gilt leather.

When she was dressed she went out into the atrium and then sent word to
the praetorian praefect and his friends that she was ready to receive
them.

Some of the news from the busy world outside had already reached her
ears. Licinia was not like to be chary in imparting to her mistress the
scraps of gossip which she had collected.

The Caesar was outside the city, he would in due time return to Rome at
the