rove that the campaign had
been most wofully misconducted, and was only indebted to accident for
success.

'But it is of little use for me to talk, if I cannot act as well,' he at
length concluded, rising from the floor. 'And how could I act any part,
placed as I am? The father of the wife of the imperator Sergius Vanno
should be the leader of a cohort rather than of a mere century; and be
otherwise lodged than in this poor place. Then would they listen to
him.'

He spoke bitterly and enviously, exhibiting in his whole tone as well as
in his words his besetting weakness. For a while AEnone did not answer.
It was as far from her duty as from her taste and pleasure to remind
him, even if she could have done so to his comprehension, that her
husband had already advanced him as far as was possible or fitting, and
had otherwise provided for him in various ways as well as could
reasonably be expected. The views of the centurion were of a far
different nature. In giving his daughter to the patrician he had meanly
intended thereby to rise high in life--had anticipated ready promotion
beyond what his ignorance would have justified--had supposed that he
would be admitted upon an equal social footing among the friends of
Sergius, not realizing that his own native roughness and brutishness
must have forbidden such a connection--had dazzled his eyes too wilfully
with pictures of the wealth and influence and glory that would fall to
his lot. As long, therefore, as so many of those gilded imaginings had
failed in their promise, it seemed as nothing to him that Sergius, in
the first flush of admiration for the daughter, had removed the father
from rough provincial to more pleasing and relaxing urban duties, had
purchased him a house befitting his station, and had lightened his
condition in various ways.

'But we are gradually doing better,' AEnone said at length, striving to
cheer him by identifying her fortunes more nearly with his own, 'This is
a finer place than we had to live in at Ostia. Think how narrow and
crowded we were then. And now I see that we have a new slave to open for
us, while at Ostia we had only old Mitus. Indeed, we are very
comfortable.'

'Ay, ay,' growled the centurion; 'a new slave--a dwarf or idiot, or what
not--just such a creature as would not bring five sestertia in the
market; and, therefore, the imperator has cast him to me, like a bare
bone to a dog. Tell him I thank him for the gift. And in this mat