ously.

"Ay, strange as it may be, a Roman."

"My mother has told me," said she, looking down at her sandal, "that
when a man speaks, it is well to listen but never to believe."

"They are not easy to understand--these men and women," said he,
thoughtfully. "Sometimes I think they would be nobler if they were
dumb as dogs. Albeit I suppose they would find a new way of lying.
But, O sweet sister of Appius, try to believe me, though you believe no
other, and I--I shall believe you always."

"You had better not," said she, with a merry glance.

"I must."

"But you will doubt me soon, for I shall say that I do not love you."

For a little he knew not how to answer. She turned away, looking off
at the Capitoline, where the toil and art of earth had wrought to show
the splendor of heaven. Its beautiful, barbaric temples were glowing
in the sunlight.

"Life would be too serious if there were no dissimulation." She looked
up at him as she spoke, and he saw a little quiver in her curved lips.

"That bow of your lips--I should think it fashioned by Praxiteles--and
it is for the arrows of truth."

"But a girl--she must deceive a little."

They were now among the vines.

"I do not understand you."

"Stupid fellow!" said she, in a whisper, as she turned, looking up at
him. "Son of Varo, lovers are not ever to be trusted. Shall I tell
you a story? One day I was in the Via Sacra and a young man caught and
held me for a moment and tried to touch my lips--that boy, Antipater, a
good-looking wretch!"

She gave her shoulders a little shrug and drew her robe closer. "He
had come out of the Basilica Julia, and I am sure he had been
over-drinking. I cried 'Help!' and quickly a man came and stood
between us; and oh! young sir, as I live, it was our great father
Augustus, and Antipater knelt before him.

"'Young man,' said the father--and his eyes shone--'rise and look
yonder. Do you see the citadel? Under its marble floor there is a
grave. It is that of one who kissed a vestal and was buried alive.
There are sacred people in Rome, and among them is this daughter of my
beloved Publius. Go you to your palace, son of Herod, and, hereafter,
forget not that you are in Rome.'

"He was angry, and I, so frightened! Then he took me home and said he
would be my father, and that in good time he would choose a husband for
me."

"The gods grant that he choose me."

"The gods forbid it, son of Varro."

"And why?"