“You will not be the ruin of a poor wretch like me, that I know, so I will tell you, we are living at Lochias.”

“There,” exclaimed Verus clapping his hands.  “And now as to the flowers?”

“Mere trifling.”

“Is Hadrian then in a merry mood?”

“Till to-day he was very gay—­but since last night—­”

“Well?”

“You know yourself what he is when he has seen lead signs in the sky.”

“Bad signs,” said Verus gravely.

“And yet he sends flowers?”

“Not he, can you not guess?”

“Antinous?”

Mastor nodded assent.

“Only think,” laughed Verus.  “Then he too is beginning to think it better worth while to admire than to be admired.  And who is the fair one who has succeeded in waking up his slumbering heart?”

“Nay—­I promised him not to chatter.”

“And I promise you the same.  My powers of reserve are far greater than my curiosity even.”

“Be content, I beseech you with what you already know.”

“But to know half is less endurable than to know nothing.”

“Nay—­I cannot tell you.”

“Then am I to begin with fresh suggestions, and all over again?”

“Oh! my lord.  I beg you, entreat you—­”

“Out with the word, and I go on my way, but if you persist in refusing—­”

“Really and truly it only concerns a white-faced girl whom you would not even look at.”

“A girl-indeed!”

“Our big dog threw the poor thing down.”

“In the street?”

“No, at Lochias.  Her father is Keraunus the palace-steward.”

“And her name is Arsinoe?” asked Verus with undisguised concern, for he had a pleasant recollection of the beautiful child who had been selected to fill the part of Roxana.

“No, her name is Selene, Arsinoe indeed is her younger sister.”

“Then you bring these flowers from Lochias?”

“She went out, and she could not get back home again, she is now lying in the house of a stranger.”

“Where?”

“That must be quite indifferent to you—­”

“By no means, quite the contrary.  I beg you to tell me the whole truth.”

“Eternal gods! what can you care about the poor sick creature?”

“Nothing whatever; but I must know whither you are riding.”

“Down by the sea.  I do not know the house, but the donkey driver—­”

“Is it far from here?”

“About half an hour yet,” said the lad.

“A good way then,” replied Verus.  “And Hadrian is particularly anxious to remain unknown.”

“Certainly.”

“And you his body-servant, who are known to numbers of others here from Rome, like myself, you propose to ride half a mile through the streets where every creature that can stand or walk is swarming, with a large nosegay in your hand which attracts every body’s attention.  Oh Mastor that is not wise!”