r head, "if my feet were as large as yours, and my skin as black and
thick, I should not care to complain if I had to work a little now and
then."

"Oh! of course," retorted Hasdrubal, a little nettled. "Your ladyship
is too refined, too handsome, to reflect that people with black skins
as well as white may get heated and weary. Wait five and twenty years,
till your cheeks are a bit withered, and see if Master Drusus doesn't
give you enough to make you tired from morning till night."

"You rude fellow," cried Chloe, pouting with vexation, "I will not
speak to you again. If Master Drusus were here, I would complain of
you to him. I have heard that he is not the kind of a master to let a
poor maid of his be insulted."

"Oh, be still, you hussy!" said the elder woman, who felt that a life
of labour had spoiled what might have been quite the equal of Chloe's
good looks. "What do you know of Master Drusus? He has been in Athens
ever since you were bought. I'll make Mamercus, the steward, believe
you ought to be whipped."

What tart answer Chloe might have had on the end of her tongue will
never be known; for at this moment Mago, the other Libyan, glanced up
the road, and cried:--

"Well, mistress, perhaps you will see our master very soon. He was due
this afternoon or next day from Puteoli, and what is that great cloud
of dust I see off there in the distance? Can't you make out carriages
and horsemen in the midst of it, Hasdrubal?"

Certainly there was a little cavalcade coming up the highway. Now it
was a mere blotch moving in the sun and dust; then clearer; and then
out of the cloud of light, flying sand came the clatter of hoofs on
the pavement, the whir of wheels, and ahead of the rest of the party
two dark Numidian outriders in bright red mantles appeared, pricking
along their white African steeds. Chloe clapped her little hands,
steadied her water-pot, and sprang up on the staging of the treadmill
beside Mago.

"It is he!" she cried. "It must be Master Drusus coming back from
Athens!" She was a bit excited, for an event like the arrival of a new
master was a great occurrence in the monotonous life of a country
slave.

The cortege was still a good way off.

"What is Master Drusus like?" asked Chloe "Will he be kind, or will he
be always whipping like Mamercus?"

"He was not in charge of the estate," replied Lais, the older woman,
"when he went away to study at Athens[3] a few years ago. But he was
always k