ildhood and youth."

Sabina withdrew the hand he had taken, saying:

"But you must not leave me. I want you. I cannot exist without your
presence."

"Till to-morrow--always--forever I will stay with you whenever you need
me."

The Empress gave him her hand again, and sighed softly as he again bowed
over it, and pressed it long to his lips.

"You are my friend, Verus, truly my friend; yes, I am sure of it," she
said at last, breaking the silence.

"Oh Sabina, my Mother!" he answered tenderly. "You spoiled me with
kindness even when I was a boy, and what can I do to thank you for all
this?"

"Be always the same to me that you are to-day. Will you always--for all
time be the same, whatever your fortunes may be?"

"In joy and in adversity always the same; always your friend, always
ready to give my life for you."

"In spite of my husband, always, even when you think you no longer need
my favor!"

"Always, for without you I should be nothing--utterly miserable."

The Empress heaved a deep sigh and sat bolt upright on her couch. She
had formed a great resolve, and she said slowly, emphasizing every word:

"If nothing utterly unforeseen occurs in the heavens on your
birth-night, you shall be our son, and so Hadrian's successor and heir.
I swear it."

There was something solemn in her voice, and her small eyes were wide
open.

"Sabina, Mother, guardian spirit of my life!" cried Verus, and he fell
on his knees by her couch. She looked in his handsome face with deep
emotion, laid her hands on his temples, and pressed her lips on his dark
curls.

A moist brilliancy sparkled in those eyes, unapt to tears, and in a soft
and appealing tone that no one had ever before heard in her voice she
said:

"Even at the summit of fortune, after your adoption, even in the purple
all will be the same between us two. Will it? Tell me, will it?"

"Always, always!" cried Verus. "And if our hopes are fulfilled--"

"Then, then," interrupted Sabina and she shivered as she spoke. "Then,
still you will be to me the same that you are now; but to be sure, to be
sure--the temples of the gods would be empty if mortals had nothing left
to wish for."

"Ah! no. Then they would bring thank-offerings to the divinity," cried
Verus, and he looked up at the Empress; but she turned away from his
smiling glance and exclaimed in a tone of reproof and alarm:

"No playing with words, no empty speeches or rash jesting! in the name
of all the go