[20] A member of the band who with Catiline conspired in 63 B.C. to
  overthrow the Roman government.

  [21] The Roman millionaire who had just been slain in Parthia.

“I thank them for nothing,” was her answer; then more shyly, “except for your own coming; for, Quintus, you—­you—­will marry me before very long?”

“What hinders?” cried the other, in the best of spirits.  “To-morrow I go to Rome; then back again!  And then all Praeneste will flock to our marriage train.  No, pout no more over Lucius Ahenobarbus.  He shan’t pay disagreeable attentions.  And now over to the old villa; for Mamercus is eating his heart out to see me!”

And away they went arm in arm.

Drusus’s head was in the air.  He had resolved to marry Cornelia, cost what it might to his desires.  He knew now that he was affianced to the one maiden in the world quite after his own heart.

III

The paternal villa of Drusus lay on the lower part of the slope of the Praeneste citadel, facing the east.  It was a genuine country and farming estate—­not a mere refuge from the city heat and hubbub.  The Drusi had dwelt on it for generations, and Quintus had spent his boyhood upon it.  The whole mass of farm land was in the very pink of cultivation.  There were lines of stately old elms enclosing the estate; and within, in regular sequence, lay vineyards producing the rather poor Praeneste wine, olive orchards, groves of walnut trees, and many other fruits.  Returning to the point where he had left the carriage, Drusus led Cornelia up a broad avenue flanked by noble planes and cypresses.  Before them soon stood, or rather stretched, the country house.  It was a large grey stone building, added to, from time to time, by successive owners.  Only in front did it show signs of modern taste and elegance.  Here ran a colonnade of twelve red porphyry pillars, with Corinthian capitals.  The part of the house reserved for the master lay behind this entrance way.  Back of it rambled the structure used by the farm steward, and the slaves and cattle.  The whole house was low—­in fact practically one-storied; and the effect produced was perhaps substantial, but hardly imposing.

Up the broad avenue went the two young people; too busy with their own gay chatter to notice at a distance how figures were running in and out amid the colonnade, and how the pillars were festooned with flowers.  But as they drew nearer a throng was evident.  The whole farm establishment—­men, women, and children—­had assembled, garlanded and gayly dressed, to greet the young master.  Perhaps five hundred persons—­nearly all slaves—­had been employed on the huge estate, and they were all at hand.  As Drusus came up the avenue, a general shout of welcome greeted him.

“Ave!  Ave!  Domine!” and there were some shouts as Cornelia was seen of, “Ave!  Domina!”