k so." And she called for her
attendants to escort her abroad.

Chapter VIII

"When Greek Meets Greek"

I

Cornelia had surmised correctly that Pratinas, not Lucius Ahenobarbus,
would be the one to bring the plot against Drusus to an issue. Lucius
had tried in vain to escape from the snares the wily intriguer had
cast about him. His father had told him that if he would settle down
and lead a moderately respectable life, Phormio should be paid off.
And with this burden off his mind, for reformation was very easily
promised, Lucius had time to consider whether it was worth his while
to mix in a deed that none of Pratinas's casuistry could quite
convince him was not a foul, unprovoked murder, of an innocent man.
The truth was, Ahenobarbus was desperately in love with Cornelia, and
had neither time nor desire to mingle in any business not connected
with the pursuit of his "tender passion." None of his former
sweethearts--and he had had almost as many as he was years old--were
comparable in his eyes to her. She belonged to a different world from
that of the Spanish dancers, the saucy maidens of Greece, or even the
many noble-born Roman women that seemed caught in the eddy of Clodia's
fashionable whirlpool. Lucius frankly told himself that he would want
to be divorced from Cornelia in five years--it would be tedious to
keep company longer with a goddess. But for the present her vivacity,
her wit, her bright intelligence, no less than her beauty, charmed
him. And he was rejoiced to believe that she was quite as much
ensnared by his own attractions. He did not want any unhappy accident
to mar the smooth course which was to lead up to the marriage in no
distant future. He did not need Drusus's money any longer to save him
from bankruptcy. The legacy would be highly desirable, but life would
be very pleasant without it. Lucius was almost induced by his inward
qualms to tell Pratinas to throw over the whole matter, and inform
Dumnorix that his services were not needed.

It was at this juncture that Cornelia committed an error, the full
consequences of which were, to her, happily veiled. In her anxiety to
discover the plot, she had made Lucius believe that she was really
pining for the news of the murder of Drusus. Cornelia had actually
learned nothing by a sacrifice that tore her very heart out; but her
words and actions did almost irreparable harm to the cause she was
trying to aid.

"And you have never given me