inquired which road they had taken. But to this
no one had paid heed; he could only learn that they had crossed the
river by the westward bridge, and so perhaps had gone back by way of
Aletrium, instead of descending the valley to the Latin Way. Even yet
Marcian did not feel quite safe from his Greek pursuers. He feared a
meeting between them and the Praenestines.

Having bathed (a luxury after waterless Rome), and eaten a morsel of
bread with a draught of his own wine, he called his housekeeper, and
bade her make known to the lady, his guest, that he begged permission
to wait upon her. With but a few minutes' delay Veranilda descended to
the room which lay behind the atrium. Marcian, loitering among the
ivied plane-trees without, was told of her coming, and at once entered.

She was alone, standing at the back of the room; her hands hanging
linked before her, the lower part of the arms white against the folds
of a russet-coloured tunic. And Marcian beheld her face.

He took a few rapid steps toward her, checked himself, bowed
profoundly, and said in a somewhat abrupt voice:

'Gracious lady, is it by your own wish that you are unattended? Or have
my women, by long disuse, so forgotten their duties--'

Veranilda interrupted him.

'I assure you it was my own wish, lord Marcian. We must speak of things
which are not for others' hearing.'

In the same unnatural voice, as though he put constraint upon himself
for the performance of a disagreeable duty, he begged her to be seated,
and Veranilda, not without betraying a slight trouble of surprise, took
the chair to which he pointed. But he himself did not sit down. In the
middle of the room stood a great bronze candelabrum, many-branched for
the suspension of lamps, at its base three figures, Pluto, Neptune, and
Proserpine. It was the only work of any value which the villa now
contained, and Marcian associated it with the memories of his earliest
years. As a little child he had often gazed at those three faces, awed
by their noble gravity, and, with a child's diffidence, he had never
ventured to ask what beings these were. He fixed his eyes upon them
now, to avoid looking at Veranilda. She, timidly glancing at him, said
in her soft, low voice, with the simplest sincerity:

'I have not yet found words in which to thank you, lord Marcian.'

'My thanks are due to you, dear lady, for gracing this poor house with
your presence.'

His tone was more suavely courteous. For