Читать книгу No. XIII; or, The Story of the Lost Vestal онлайн
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“Bid the musicians strike up,” Severus said; “our talk is scarcely pleasant for ladies to hear. And then, when we have had a good stirring melody, my little daughter shall sing us a good-night strain on her lute. Eh, my pretty one?”
“Father, I pray you to excuse me to-night,” Hyacintha said; “I am weary, and I have no heart to sing.”
She stepped down from her place on her mother’s couch, and with a curtsey, and graceful wave of her hand to the guests at the table, disappeared.
CHAPTER II.
NIGHT.
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Although Casca and Hyacintha were their parents’ only children, there were no very intimate relations existing between them.
Casca was almost entirely at the schools, where he was preparing for active service, and receiving such training as was deemed needful for a young Roman. His father was disappointed that his only boy should be pale and delicate, that his arms should not be muscular, and that he was always at fault in any game, or trial of strength. Severus did his best to harden his only son, and it was with that idea that he had taken him with him that morning to see the execution of Alban.