s doing her best to spend.

Herennia was already dressed for the party. Her brown hair had been
piled up in an enormous mass on her head, eked out by false tresses
and puffings, and the whole plentifully powdered with gold dust. She
wore a prodigious number of gaudily set rings; her neck and ears and
girdle were ablaze with gold and jewels. So far from aiming, as do
modern ladies, to reduce the waist to the slenderest possible
proportions, Herennia, who was actually quite thin, had carefully
padded out her form to proper dimensions, and showed this fact by her
constrained motions. She was rouged and painted, and around her
floated an incense of a thousand and one rare perfumes. Her
amethystine tunic and palla were of pure silk--then literally worth
its weight in gold--and embroidered with an elaborate pattern in which
pearls and other gems played a conspicuous part. For all this display
of extravagance, Herennia was of only very mediocre beauty; and it was
on this account that she was always glad to make uncomfortable flings
at her "dear friend" Cornelia, whenever possible.

Herennia seated herself on a divan, and proceeded to plunge into all
the flying gossip of the day. Incidentally she managed to hint that
Servius Maccus, her devoted admirer, had told her that the night
before Lucius Ahenobarbus and some of his friends had attacked and
insulted a lady on her way back from a late dinner.[87]

[87] A common diversion for "young men of spirit."

"The outrageous scapegrace!" cried Cornelia, while her maids hurried
along a toilet which, if not as elaborate as Herennia's, took some
little time. "I imagined he might do such things! I always detested
him!"

"Then you are not so very fond of Lucius Ahenobarbus," said Herennia,
raising her carefully painted eyebrows, as if in astonishment. "I am
really a little surprised."

"Surprised?" reëchoed Cornelia. "What have I done or said that makes
Lucius Ahenobarbus anything more than a very distant, a _very_ distant
acquaintance?"

"My dear girl," exclaimed Herennia, throwing up her hands, "either you
are the best actress, or the most innocent little wight, in Rome!
Don't you know all that they say about you?"

"Who--say--what--about--me?" stammered Cornelia, rising in her chair
so suddenly, as to disarrange all the work Cassandra had been doing on
her hair.

"Why, everybody," said Herennia, smiling with an exasperating
deliberation. "And then it has all come out in t