“In small matters and where it is fitting I let you have your way; more important things I shall this time, as always, decide by my own judgment —­my own exclusively.”

These words were fraught with the fate of the gatehouse and its inhabitants, for the removal of the “hideous hut” at the entrance of the palace was one of the “small matters” of which Hadrian spoke.  Sabina had required this concession, since it could not be pleasant to any one visiting Lochias to be received on the threshold by an old Megaera of evil omen, and to be fallen upon by infuriated dogs.  But Doris so little divined the import of Hadrian’s words that she rejoiced at them, for they told her how little he was disposed to yield to his wife in important things, and how could she suspect that her fate and that of her house should not be included among important matters, nay the most important?

Sabina had quitted the anteroom leaning on her chamberlain and Hadrian was standing there alone with his slave Mastor.  The old woman would not be likely to have another such favorable opportunity of supplicating the all-powerful man who stood before her, without the hindrance of witnesses, to exercise his magnaminity and clemency towards her son.  His back turned to her; if she could have seen the threatening scowl with which he stood gazing on the ground she would surely have remembered the architect’s warning and have postponed her address till a future day.

How often do we spoil our best chances by following an urgent instinct to arrive at certainty as early as possible, and by not being strong enough to postpone opening our business till a favorable moment offers.  Uncertainty in the present often seems less endurable than adverse fate in the future.

Doris stepped out of the side door.  Mastor, who knew his master well, and whose friendly impulse was to spare the old woman any humiliation, made eager signs to warn her to withdraw and not to disturb Hadrian at that moment; but she was so wholly possessed by her anxiety and wishes that she did not observe them.  As the Emperor turned to leave the room she gathered courage, stood in the doorway through which he must pass, and tried to fall on her knees before him.  This was a difficult effort to her old joints and Doris was forced to clutch at the door-post in order not to lose her balance.

Hadrian at once recognized the suppliant, but to-day he found no kind word for her, and the glance he cast down at her was anything rather than gracious.  How had he ever been able to find amusement even in this woeful old body?  Alas! poor Doris was quite a different creature in her little house, among her flowers, dogs and birds to what she seemed here in the spacious hall of a magnificent palace.  This wide and gorgeous frame but ill-suited so modest a figure.  Thousands of good people who in the midst of their everyday surroundings command our esteem and attract our regard give rise to very different feelings when they are taken out of the circle to which they belong.