s.[15]

[13] Every Roman had a _praenomen_, or "Christian name"; also a gentile
name of the gens or clan to which he belonged; and commonly in addition
a cognomen, usually an epithet descriptive of some personal peculiarity
of an ancestor, which had fastened itself upon the immediate descendants
of that ancestor. The _Livii Drusi_ were among the noblest of the Roman
houses.

[14] Died in 91 B.C.

[15] In 54 B.C.

The son and the daughter remained. Quintus Drusus had had kindly
guardians; he had been sent for four years to the "University" at
Athens; had studied rhetoric and philosophy; and now he was back with
his career before him,--master of himself, of a goodly fortune, of a
noble inheritance of high-born ancestry. And he was to marry Cornelia.
No thought of thwarting his father's mandate crossed his mind; he was
bound by the decree of the dead. He had not seen his betrothed for
four years. He remembered her as a bright-eyed, merry little girl, who
had an arch way of making all to mind her. But he remembered too, that
her mother was a vapid lady of fashion, that her uncle and guardian
was Lucius Cornelius Lentulus Crus, Consul-elect,[16] a man of little
refinement or character. And four years were long enough to mar a
young girl's life. What would she be like? What had time made of her?
The curiosity--we will not call it passion--was overpowering. Pure
"love" was seldom recognized as such by the age. When the carriage
reached a spot where two roads forked, leading to adjacent estates,
Drusus alighted.

[16] The two Roman consuls were magistrates of the highest rank, and
were chosen each year by the people.

"Is her ladyship Cornelia at the villa of the Lentuli?" was his demand
of a gardener who was trimming a hedge along the way.

"Ah! Master Drusus," cried the fellow, dropping his sickle in delight.
"Joy to see you! Yes, she is in the grove by the villa; by the great
cypress you know so well. But how you have changed, sir--"

But Drusus was off. The path was familiar. Through the trees he caught
glimpses of the stately mazes of colonnades of the Lentulan villa,
surrounded by its artificially arranged gardens, and its wide
stretches of lawn and orchard. The grove had been his playground. Here
was the oak under which Cornelia and he had gathered acorns. The
remnants of the little brush house they had built still survived. His
step quickened. He heard the rush of the little stream that wou