d not help thinking of all the care and trouble which with
the assistance of Pontius, he had for months devoted to rendering this
palace which had not been used since Titus had set out for Judaea, fit
quarters for Hadrian's reception. The Empress now lived in the rooms
intended for her husband, and decorated with the choicest works of art,
and Titianus reflected with regret that, after Sabina had once become
aware of their presence there, it would be quite impossible to transfer
them to Lochias. At the door of the splendid room which he had intended
for Hadrian he was met by Sabina's chamberlain who undertook to conduct
him at once into the presence of his mistress.

The roof of the hall in which the prefect found the Empress, in summer
was open to the sky; but at this season was suitably covered in by a
movable copper roof, partly to keep off the rain of the Alexandrian
winter, and partly too because, even in the warmer season Sabina was wont
to complain of cold; but beneath it a wide opening allowed the air free
entrance and exit. As Titianus entered the room a comfortable warmth and
subtle perfume met his senses; the warmth was produced by stoves of a
peculiar form standing in the middle of the room; one of these
represented Vulcan's forge. Brightly glowing charcoal lay in front of the
bellows which were worked by an automaton, at short regular intervals,
while the god and his assistants modelled in brass, stood round the
genial fire with tongs and hammers. The other stove was a large silver
bird's-nest, in which likewise charcoal was burning. Above the glowing
fuel a phoenix, also in brass, and in the likeness of an eagle, seemed
striving to soar heavenwards. Besides these a number of lamps lighted the
saloon, which in truth looked too large for the number of people
assembled in it, and which was lavishly furnished with gracefully-formed
seats, couches, and tables, vases of flowers and statues.

The prefect and Pontius had intended a quite different room to serve for
smaller assemblies, and had fitted it up suitably for the purpose, but
the Empress had preferred the great hall to the smaller room. The
venerable and nobly-born statesman was filled with vexation, nay, with an
embarrassment that made him feel estranged, when he had to glance round
the room to find the persons in it, collected, as they were, into small
knots. He could hear nothing but hushed voices; here an unintelligible
murmur and there a suppressed l