r to possess independent
property, so long as the father lived, or until he chose to
"emancipate." It naturally follows that paternal pressure was the
chief factor in determining a marriage, and only those men or women
whose fathers were dead, or who had been formally freed from tutelage,
were in a position absolutely to please themselves. We need not
suppose either that sons were always very amenable, or that parents
were invariably self-willed and autocratic, but it is obvious that
marriages based on mutual attraction must have been extremely few. We
will suppose that Silius is his own master, while Marcia has a father
or a guardian still alive.

At the betrothal ceremony the friends of both houses are in
attendance, a regular form of words is interchanged between Silius and
the father of Marcia, a ring is given by the man to his _fiancee_, to
be worn on the fourth finger of her left hand, and he adds some other
present, most probably some form of that jewellery of which the Roman
women were and still are so extraordinarily fond. A feast naturally
follows.

You would think this performance sufficiently binding, and binding no
doubt it was from a moral point of view, so long as there was
reasonably good behaviour on either side, or so long as neither Silius
nor Marcia's father was prepared wantonly to flout general opinion or
to offend a whole connection by simply changing his mind. On the other
hand, there was no legal compulsion whatever to carry out the
contract. The Roman world knew nothing of actions for breach of
promise. If either party chose to repudiate the engagement, they were
free so to do. In that case they were said to "send back a refusal" or
to "send a counter-notice." A family dispute, a breath of suspicion, a
change of circumstances, and even an improved prospect might be
sufficient excuse, or no excuse need be offered at all.

In the present instance, however, no such ugly missive passes between
the house of Silius on the Caelian Hill and that of Marcius on the
Aventine, the wedding takes place in due course. It will not be in May
nor in early March or June, nor on certain other dates which, for
reasons mostly long forgotten, were regarded as inauspicious. It is a
social ceremony, and neither state nor priest will have anything to do
with sanctioning or blessing it. The pillars at the sides of the
vestibules of both houses are wreathed with leaves and boughs, and the
friends and clients of both f