t had brought me something more to the
purpose-thoughts and plans. Yes, during those peaceful weeks the things
my father and tutor had taught me became clear and real for the first
time. I realized that I must become energetic if I meant ever to be a
thorough sovereign. As soon as I could use my foot again I became an
industrious and docile pupil under Cilo. From a child up to the time of
this cruel experience, my youthful heart had clung to my nurse. She was a
Christian from my father's African home--I knew she loved me best on
earth. My mother knew of no higher destiny than that of being the
Domna,--[Domna, lady or mistress, in corrupt Latin. Hence her name of
Julia Domna] the lady of the soldiers, the mother of the camp, and the
lady philosopher among the sages. What she gave me in the way of love was
but copper alms. She threw golden solidi of love into Geta's lap in
lavish abundance. And her sister and her nieces, who often lived with us,
treated me exactly as she did. They were distantly civil, or they shunned
me; but my brother was their spoiled plaything. I was as incapable as
Geta was master of the art of stealing hearts; but in my childhood I
needed none of them: for, if I wished for a kind word, a sweet kiss, or
the love of a woman, my nurse's arms were open to me. Nor was she an
ordinary woman. As the widow of a tribune who had fallen in my father's
service, she had undertaken to attend on me. She loved me as no one else
ever did. She was also the only person whom I would willingly obey. I
came into the world full of wild instincts, but she knew how to tame them
kindly. My aversion to my brother was the one thing she checked but
feebly, for he was a thorn in her side too. I learned this when she, who
was so gentle, explained to me, with asperity in her tone, that there was
but one God in heaven, and on earth but one emperor, who should govern
the world in his name. She also imparted these convictions to others, and
this turned to her disadvantage. My mother parted us, and sent her back
to her African home. She died soon after." He was silent, and gazed
pensively into vacancy; soon, however, he collected his thoughts and
said, lightly:

"Well, I became Cilo's diligent pupil."

"But," asked Melissa, "did you not say that at one time you attempted his
life?"

"I did so," replied Caracalla darkly; "for a moment arrived when I cursed
his teaching, and yet it was certainly wise and well meant. You see,
child, a