Читать книгу No. XIII; or, The Story of the Lost Vestal онлайн

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“She was ever a helpful maiden to me, and I shall want her sorely,” complained Cæcilia. “I pray she may escape thy wrath. And be patient with Casca. The boy has——”

“The boy has no strength of mind or body,” was the answer, as Severus left the room.

Hyacintha summoned back the attendants at her mother’s order, and listened for some time to a succession of complaints and regrets for Ebba, which apparently took as little effect on the other maidens as the dropping of the water on the marble of the atrium had upon the smooth polished surface.

At length the toilette was completed, and the lady, richly dressed, repaired to the public bath, which was as much frequented in Verulam as in Rome. The baths of these times answered to the fashionable clubs and resorts of to-day. Acquaintances and friends met there, discussed the news, expressed surprise at the slow arrival of the post from Rome, one of the chief stations for news being placed at Verulam, talked gossip and scandal, as is the custom with unoccupied women of every rank and every nation, in that time, as in our own.