us.

"Never, indeed!" said she; "it must be a man whom I will love; and there
is nothing manly about thee, save thy vices!"

"It is for those that most people love me," replied Curius, nothing
disconcerted. "Now Cato has nothing of the man about him but the virtues;
and I should like to know who ever thought of loving Cato."

"I never heard of any body loving Cato," said Fulvia, quietly.

"But I have," answered the girl, almost fiercely; "none of _you_ love him;
nor do I love him; because he is too high and noble, to be dishonored by
the love of such as I am; but all the good, and great, and generous, do
love him, and will love his memory for countless ages! I would to God, I
could love him!"

"What fury has possessed her?" whispered Catiline to Orestilla; "what ails
her to talk thus? first to proclaim herself my daughter, and now to praise
Cato?"

"Do not ask me!" replied Aurelia in the same tone; "she was a strange girl
ever; and I cannot say, if she likes this task that you have put upon
her."

"More wine, ho! bring more wine! Drink we each man to his mistress, each
lady to her lover in secrecy and silence!" cried the master of the revel.
"Fill up! fill up! let it be pure, and sparkling to the brim."

But Fulvia, irritated a little by what had passed, would not be silent;
although she saw that Catiline was annoyed at the character the
conversation had assumed, and ere the slave had filled up the beakers she
addressed Lucia--

"And wherefore, dearest, would you love Cato? I could as soon love the
statue of Accius Naevius, with his long beard, on the steps of the
Comitium; he were scarce colder, or less comely than your Cato."

"Because to love virtue is still something, if we be vicious even; and, if
I am not virtuous myself, at least I have not lost the sense that it were
good to be so!"

"I never knew that you were not virtuous, my Lucia," interposed her
mother; "affectionate and pious you have ever been."

"And obedient!" added Catiline, with strong emphasis. "Your mother, my
Lucia, and myself, return thanks to the Gods daily for giving us so good a
child."

"Do you?" replied the girl, scornfully; "the Gods must have merry times,
then, for that must needs make them laugh! But good or bad, I respect the
great; and, if I ever love, it will be, as I said, a great and a good
man."

"I fear you will never love me, Lucia," whispered Paullus in her ear,
unheard amid the clash of knives and flagons, and t