t my mind richly repaid them
for the trouble of cultivation. I trust I was not haughty in my childhood,
but when I observed other boys of my age and station, water-carriers,
labourers in the vineyards, and engaged in various menial occupations from
which I was exempted, the knowledge that in _something_ I was regarded as
their superior, soon forced itself upon me; I felt a distaste for the
society of little unlettered, and unmannered boors, and in silence and
solitude made progress in studies, which, mere matters of amusement to me,
would have been hailed by many youths as tasks more severe than daily
manual labour.

Servilius and Andrea associated with but few in their own rank of life;
but now and then received visits from their superiors; amongst these were
two, whom I shall never, never cease to remember, and to lament, and to
whom, as I look backwards through the vista of five-and-thirty years, I
still cannot forbear imagining that _I_ was _related_ by no _common ties_.
Of this interesting pair, one was a lady, young, pale, but strikingly
beautiful, and the other, a cavalier, her senior but by a very few years,
handsome, noble, graceful and accomplished.

Artemisia, so was the lady called, always wore the costume of a religious
house when she visited Andrea, but whether this were merely assumed for
convenience, or whether she were actually one of the holy sisterhood, I
had then neither the desire, nor the means of ascertaining; I only know,
that she used sometimes to call me her "dear child," and seemed to vie in
affection for me, with the cavalier. Serventius,--yes--the noble gentleman
bore my name, for which I liked him all the better, used occasionally to
meet her at the house of Servilius and Andrea; and their affection for
each other struck even my childish spirit as being more than fraternal;
shall I also confess, that I indulged myself in the indistinct idea--the
sweet dream--that this noble, virtuous, accomplished, and beautiful pair,
(whose only object in visiting our humble residence seemed to be to behold
me) were my real parents, and that of Servilius and Andrea, I was only the
foster-child.

One evening Serventius and Artemisia having concluded their usual repast
of bread, honey, eggs and fruit, amused themselves by asking me a thousand
different questions concerning the history, biography, geography, customs,
religion, and arts of the ancient Romans, to all of which, my replies were,
it seems, extre