anguage she called Greek,
seizing his hand and almost embracing him, "how delighted I am to see
you! We haven't met since--since yesterday morning. I did so want to
have a good talk with you about Plato's theory of the separate
existence of ideas. But first I must ask you, have you heard whether
the report is true that Terentia, Caius Glabrio's wife, has run off
with a gladiator?"

"So Gabinius, I believe," replied Pratinas, "just told me. And I heard
something else. A great secret. You must not tell."

"Oh! I am dying to know," smirked Valeria.

"Well," said the Greek, confidentially, "Publius Silanus has divorced
his wife, Crispia. 'She went too much,' he says, 'with young
Purpureo.'"

"You do not say so!" exclaimed the lady. "I always knew that would
happen! Now tell me, don't you think this perfume of iris is delicate?
It's in that little glass scent bottle; break the neck.[38] I shall
use it in a minute. I have just had some bottles sent up from Capua.
Roman perfumes are so vulgar!"

[38] To let out the ointment. Capua was a famed emporium for perfumes
and like wares.

"I fear," said Pratinas, doing as bidden, and testing the essence with
evident satisfaction, "that I have interrupted your philosophical
studies." And he glanced at Pisander, who was sitting lonesome and
offended in his corner.

"Oh! not in the least," ran on Valeria; "but though I know you are
Epicurean, surely you enjoy Plato?"

"Certainly," said Pratinas, with dramatic dignity, "I suck the sweets
from the flowers left us by all the wise and good. Epicurean though I
am, your ladyship must permit me to lend you a copy of an essay I have
with me, by that great philosopher, the Stoic Chrysippos,[39] although
I cannot agree with all his teachings; and this copy of Panaitios, the
Eclectic's great _Treatise on Duty_, which cannot fail to edify your
ladyship." And he held out the two rolls.

[39] Born 180 B.C.

"A thousand thanks," said Valeria, languidly, "hand them to Pisander.
I will have him read them. A little more white lead, Arsinoe, I am too
tanned; make me paler. Just run over the veins of my temples with a
touch of blue paint. Now a tint of antimony on my eyelids."

"Your ladyship seems in wonderfully good spirits this morning,"
insinuated Pratinas.

"Yes," said Valeria, with a sigh, "I endure the woes of life as should
one who is consoled by philosophy."

"Shall I continue the Plato?" edged in poor Pisander, who was ragi