"that he could not modify
his views on your sex by knowing such ladies as are in this room."
Tacitus bowed gravely to Quadratilla as their host said this. A
retort trembled on the wicked old lips, but Calpurnia, seeing it,
made haste to ask if any of them had ever talked with Juvenal. "I
asked Martial once," she said, "to bring him to see us, but he never
came. I cannot help feeling that, if he could know us better, his
arraignment would be less harsh." "Dear Lady," said Tacitus, "you
forget that people like you are cut jewels, very different from the
rough rock of our order as well as from the shifting sands of the
populace." "Dear Cynic," laughed Calpurnia, "do we know any more
about the populace than Juvenal knows about us?"

But in Tacitus's unfortunate figure Quadratilla saw her chance to
annoy him by belittling the conversation. To everyone's despair, she
intruded maliciously: "To my thinking, the finding of my emerald
would show to advantage the cut of our aristocratic wits." Cornelia
had just whispered to Rufus, "I wish we could lose her as adequately
out of our setting," when Lucius came into the loggia with the sealed
package for Pliny. A question from his master gave him a chance to
tell Marcus's story, which lost nothing in the friendly, rustic
narration. A chorus of praise for the boy rose from the eager
listeners. Even Quadratilla remarked that he was a decent little
clod-hopper, as she demanded a lamp by which to examine her jewel.
Pliny and Calpurnia's eyes met in swift response to each other's
thoughts. They examined the farmer's seal and questioned Lucius more
closely. Calpurnia's eyes filled with tears at his account of the
old grandfather--"ruined," she exclaimed to the others, "in the very
month that Pliny's name, as we afterwards discovered, was put on the
prescription list. We were so anxious at the time--that must explain
our never following the family up. I will go early to-morrow," she
added, turning to her husband, "and see the mother. We must make up
for lost time." "Find out," said Pliny, "whether the boy wants to
go to school."

A cackle of laughter came from Quadratilla's chair back of the group
that had gathered around the servant. "How like my Pliny!" she
remarked genially. "A dirty little rascal restores my property in
the hope of picking up a reward. His heart's desire is doubtless a
strip of bacon for his stomach on a holiday. And Pliny offers him
an education!"

III

Marcus