at thought of the
dangers which threatened the girl, great pity seized her. A certain
motherly feeling rose in the woman. Lygia seemed to her not only as
beautiful as a beautiful vision, but also very dear, and, putting her
lips to her dark hair, she kissed it.

But Lygia slept on calmly, as if at home, under the care of Pomponia
Graecina. And she slept rather long. Midday had passed when she opened
her blue eyes and looked around the cubiculum in astonishment. Evidently
she wondered that she was not in the house of Aulus.

"That is thou, Acte?" said she at last, seeing in the darkness the face
of the Greek.

"I, Lygia."

"Is it evening?"

"No, child; but midday has passed."

"And has Ursus not returned?"

"Ursus did not say that he would return; he said that he would watch in
the evening, with Christians, for the litter."

"True."

Then they left the cubiculum and went to the bath, where Acte bathed
Lygia; then she took her to breakfast and afterward to the gardens of
the palace, in which no dangerous meeting might be feared, since Caesar
and his principal courtiers were sleeping yet. For the first time in
her life Lygia saw those magnificent gardens, full of pines, cypresses,
oaks, olives, and myrtles, among which appeared white here and there a
whole population of statues. The mirror of ponds gleamed quietly; groves
of roses were blooming, watered with the spray of fountains; entrances
to charming grottos were encircled with a growth of ivy or woodbine;
silver-colored swans were sailing on the water; amidst statues and trees
wandered tame gazelles from the deserts of Africa, and rich-colored
birds from all known countries on earth.

The gardens were empty; but here and there slaves were working, spade in
hand, singing in an undertone; others, to whom was granted a moment
of rest, were sitting by ponds or in the shade of groves, in trembling
light produced by sun-rays breaking in between leaves; others were
watering roses or the pale lily-colored blossoms of the saffron. Acte
and Lygia walked rather long, looking at all the wonders of the gardens;
and though Lygia's mind was not at rest, she was too much a child yet to
resist pleasure, curiosity, and wonder. It occurred to her, even, that
if Caesar were good, he might be very happy in such a palace, in such
gardens.

But at last, tired somewhat, the two women sat down on a bench hidden
almost entirely by dense cypresses and began to talk of that which