h the
goblet--rather tossing it away than setting it down--he noticed how she
stood before him with whitened face and frightened features, and with
the attitude of a shrinking slave rather than of a wife joyous to be of
service. His heart smote him for his negligent greeting, and he rose up
from the lounge and placed his arm about her.

'Not with you, AEnone, am I vexed,' he said, partly comprehending the
cause of her emotion. And drawing her nearer, he commenced toying with
her waving locks, telling her how for months he had been longing to meet
her, and how her looks more than ever delighted him, and otherwise
uttering such pleasant and reassuring words as soonest came into his
mind. As she began to perceive that it was not for any fault of hers
that he had displayed anger, her face gradually lost its expression of
dread. But still she could not fail to notice that the words which he
spoke were not such as are commonly prompted by a true and
unpremeditated affection; but were rather the labored and soulless
result of a mere good-natured desire to make atonement for a neglect,
and were uttered in all the careless spirit with which one tries to
soothe an improperly aggrieved child; and the old smile but feebly
played upon her features, struggle with it as earnestly as she would.

'Nay, not at your sweet face is my anger excited, AEnone,' he said; 'but
at that scurvy dog, Bassus. He should himself be a slave and the
companion of slaves, were his true station meted out to him.'

'He with whom you passed the night?' suggested AEnone.

'Ay, he was one of us,' Sergius answered, taking a position nearer the
table, and commencing to pick off a crumb of bread as the incentive to a
more extended repast. 'He was with us, as there always will be some rude
and unmannerly intruder in every company; but there were also others,
the associates of Emilius. There was Sotus, the Egyptian, a learned
astronomer, and Cyope, the renowned Greek dramatist, and Spoletius, who
is now writing a history of the empire, and, if what he says is true,
has already brought his work down to the time of the Emperor Nero--'

'And will carry it on until he reaches the present day! And will then,
in their proper place, tell about your achievements, my lord!' exclaimed
AEnone, a flush of expectation glowing upon her face, as she thought that
here were her conjectures of the preceding evening about to be realized.

'Ay!' responded Sergius; 'I presume that