ty far above that of Petronilla. So
utterly did he exhaust himself in entreaty and argument that he fell
into a fainting fit. The physician was called for, and Aurelia, she too
overcome with violent emotions, again retired to the part of the villa
which had been assigned to her.

The Anicii of a bygone time, who took their solace here when marbles
and mosaics, paintings and tapestries, were yet new, would have looked
with consternation on halls so crumbling and bare, chambers so
ill-appointed, as these in which the guests of the Senator Maximus had
their dwelling. Space there was in abundance, but of comfort in the
guest-rooms little enough; and despite her brother's commands,
Petronilla had seen to it that Aurelia was not luxuriously lodged.
Better accommodation awaited the deacon Leander, whose arrival was
announced an hour before sunset by a trotting courier. His journey from
Salernum had so wearied the ecclesiastic that he could but give a hand
to be kissed by his hostess, and straightway retire into privacy; the
repast that was ready for him had to be served beside his couch, and
soon after night had fallen, Leander slumbered peacefully. Meanwhile
Basil and Decius and their friend from Rome had supped together, making
what cheer they might under the circumstances; the Surrentine wine was
a little acrid, falling short of its due age, but it sufficed to
animate the talk. Presently Decius withdrew, to study or to meditate
through some hours of the night, for he slept ill; the others, going
apart to a gallery lighted by the full moon, sat wrapped in thick,
hooded cloaks, to converse awhile before they slept. With their voices
mingled the soft splash of a fountain.

Basil was telling of his journey to Cumae, and of the difficulty he had
had in persuading Aurelia to visit her father.

'Does she live alone there?' inquired Marcian.

There was a pause before the reply, and when Basil spoke his voice fell
to a note of half-hesitating confidence.

'Alone? yes,' he said, 'in the sense that no relative abode with her;
but she had a companion--a lady--very young.' And here he again paused,
as if in some embarrassment.

'A Roman?' was Marcian's next question, carelessly thrown out for he
had little interest in Aurelia, and was half occupied with other
thoughts.

'No,' answered Basil, his voice subdued. 'A Goth; and, she says, of the
royal blood, of the line of Theodoric.'

His friend became attentive. 'A Gothic princes