Sempronius was biding his time.  The two slaves were still high in Flavia’s favour, but he was in hopes that something might occur which would render her willing to part with them.  He watched Julia narrowly whenever Malchus entered the room, and became more and more convinced that she had taken a strong fancy for the Carthaginian slave, and the idea occurred to him that by exciting her jealousy he might succeed in obtaining his object.  So careful were Malchus and Clotilde that he had no idea whatever that any understanding existed between them.  This, however, mattered but little; nothing was more likely than that these two handsome slaves should fall in love with each other, and he determined to suggest the idea to Julia.

Accordingly one day when he was sitting beside her, while Flavia was talking with some other visitors, he remarked carelessly, “Your mother’s two slaves, the Carthaginian and the Gaul, would make a handsome couple.”

He saw a flush of anger in Julia’s face.  For a moment she did not reply, and then said in a tone of indifference: 

“Yes, they are each well favoured in their way.”

“Methinks the idea has occurred to them,” Sempronius said.  “I have seen them glance at each other, and doubt not that when beyond your presence they do not confine themselves to looks.”

Julia was silent, but Sempronius saw, in the tightly compressed lips and the lowering brow with which she looked from one to the other, that the shaft had told.

“I have wondered sometimes,” he said, “in an idle moment, whether they ever met before.  The Carthaginians were for some time among the Cisalpine Gauls, and the girl was, you have told me, the daughter of a chief there; they may well have met.”

Julia made no reply, and Sempronius, feeling that he had said enough, began to talk on other subjects.  Julia scarcely answered him, and at last impatiently waved him away.  She sat silent and abstracted until the last of the visitors had left, then she rose from her seat and walked quietly up to her mother and said abruptly to Clotilde, who was standing behind her mistress:  “Did you know the slave Malchus before you met here?”

The suddenness of the question sent the blood up into the cheeks of the Gaulish maiden, and Julia felt at once that the hints of Sempronius were fully justified.

“Yes,” Clotilde answered quietly, “I met him when, with Hannibal, he came down from the Alps into our country.”

“Why did you not say so before?” Julia asked passionately.  “Mother, the slaves have been deceiving us.”

“Julia,” Flavia said in surprise, “why this heat?  What matters it to us whether they have met before?”

Julia did not pay any attention, but stood with angry eyes waiting for Clotilde’s answer.

“I did not know, Lady Julia,” the girl said quietly, “that the affairs of your slaves were of any interest to you.  We recognized each other when we first met.  Long ago now, when we were both in a different position —­ "