ate crumbs from the hands of Bessas.'

The boy Vivian gave a loud laugh, rolling on his cushions.

'O witty Galla!' he exclaimed. 'Crumbs from the hand of Bessas. Say on,
say on; I love your spicy wit, O Galla! Cannot you find something
sharp, for the most grave, the most virtuous Basil?'

'Hold your saucy tongue, child,' said Heliodora with a pouting smile.
'But it is true that Muscula has won advancement. One doesn't need to
have a very long memory to recall her arrival in Rome. There are who
say that she came as suckling nurse in a lady's train, with the promise
of marriage to a freedman when her mistress's baby was weaned. That is
malice, of course; poor Muscula has had many enemies. For my part, I
have never doubted that she was suckling her own child, nor that its
father was a man of honourable name, and not a slave of the Circus
stables as some said.'

Again Vivian rolled on the cushions in mirth, until he caught Basil's
eye as it glanced at him with infinite scorn. Then he started to a
sitting posture, fingered the handle of his dagger, and glared at
Heliodora's neighbour with all the insolent ferocity of which his face
was capable. This youth was the son of a man whose name sounded ill to
any Roman patriot,--of that Opilio, who, having advanced to high rank
under King Theodoric, was guilty of frauds, fell from his eminence,
and, in hope of regaining the king's favour, forged evidence of
treachery against Boethius. His attire followed the latest model from
Byzantium: a loose, long-sleeved tunic, descending to the feet, its hue
a dark yellow, and over that a long mantle of white silk, held together
upon one shoulder by a great silver buckle in the form of a running
horse; silken shoes, gold embroidered, with leather soles dyed purple;
and on each wrist a bracelet. His black hair was short, and crisped
into multitudinous curls with a narrow band of gold pressing it from
the forehead to the ears.

'Oh, look at little Vivian!' cried Muscula. 'He has the eyes of an
angry rat. What vexes him? Is it because he saw Basil touch Heliodora's
slipper?'

'If I had!' sputtered the boy. 'By the devil, if I had!'

'Oh, he affrights me!' went on the mocking woman. 'Heliodora, stroke
his curls, and give him a kiss, I beseech you. Who knows what dreadful
thing may happen else?'

'I have had enough of this,' said Galla, rising with a careless laugh.
'Your house has been intolerable, most dear Heliodora, since you made
fr