ccustomed honors; and in
comparison, the empress herself might not fill her throne in the palace
of the Caesars with half the grace and dignity.

Then, as she there sat, momentarily altering her attitude to correspond
the better with her ideas of proper bearing, and gathering into newer
and more pleasing folds the sweeping breadths of the velvet mantle, the
door was slowly swung open, and there glided noiselessly in, clad in its
neat and coarse tunic, the timid figure of her old lover Cleotos.

For an instant they remained gazing at each other as though paralyzed.
Cleotos--who had looked to see her in her simple white vestment as of
old, and had expected at her first glance to rush to her arms, and there
be allowed to pour forth his joy at again meeting her, never more to
part--beheld with dismay this gorgeously arrayed and queenly figure.
This could not be the Leta whom he had known, or, if so, how changed!
Was this the customary attire of slaves in high-placed families? Or
could it be the token of a guilty favoritism? His heart sank within him;
and he stood nervously clinging against the door behind him, fearing to
advance, lest, at the first step, some terrible truth, of which he had
already seemed to feel the premonitions, might burst upon him.

And she, for the moment, sat aghast, not knowing but that the gods, to
punish her pride and ambition, had sent a spectre to confront her. But
being of strong mind and but little given to superstitious terrors, she
instantly reasoned out the facts of his simultaneous captivity with
herself and coincidence of ownership; and her sole remaining doubt was
in what manner she should treat him. They had parted in sorrow and
tears, and she knew that he now expected her to fall into his arms and
there repeat her former vows of constancy and love. But that could not
be. Had he come to her but an hour before, while her dreams of the
future were of a vague and unsatisfactory character, she might have
acted upon such an impulse. But now, a glorious vision of what might
possibly happen had kindled her ambition with brighter fires than ever
before; and could she surrender all that, and think again only upon
starving freedom in a cottage home?

'Is it thou, Cleotos? Welcome to Rome!' she said at length, throwing
from her shoulder the purple cloak, and approaching him. As she spoke,
she held out her hand. He took it in his own, in a lifeless and
mechanical sort of way, and gazed into her f