"I am generous," replied Ausonius. "It pleases me to discover in this way a favorite dish of my usually Spartan friend. I will avenge myself by placing before you, if possible, the delicious fish this lake contains; for in its green depths are balche and trout of the most delicate flavor. They are even better than those of the Mosella: I could surely have supplied you with them if the Barbarians had not all fled from the shore before our troops. When, five years ago, I spent several months on the opposite side in Arbor Felix, to investigate the condition of the frontiers, what magnificent fish I had!" Then, as if lost in reverie, he sighed: "Ah, those were happy days! My dear wife, my gentle Sabina, was living." "Hail to thy memory, Attusia Lucana Sabina!" said the nephew. "And my dear children! Then my beautiful, spacious house in the city, and the charming villa outside the Garumna gate were not empty and desolate. How gaily the songs of the young girls echoed through the country during the season when the vine blossoms poured forth their fragrance! Then I still saw around me the beloved faces of my kindred, did not stand alone, poor with all my wealth, as now--" "Uncle!" interrupted Herculanus, trying to assume a tone of most tender reproach, in which, however, he was not entirely successful. "Stand alone? Have you not me, who love you so tenderly?" The Tribune gazed coldly at the over-zealous nephew. But Ausonius replied kindly: "Certainly, my dear fellow, you are left to me, but you alone out of the whole circle of my family swept away in a single year by the pestilence: my Sabina, my three children, my two sisters and two sweet young nieces. Can you alone fill the places of all? I often feel so lonely. And you are a man. My gentle wife, my daughters, my sisters, my nieces, how I miss them! I confess it: I need the melody of women's voices, their graceful movements around me. I miss something!" The young Roman, excited, hastily seized the goblet. The Tribune looked him keenly in the face and, without averting his eyes from the nephew, suddenly said to the uncle in a very loud tone: "You must marry again!" Then the Illyrian turned away from Herculanus: he seemed to have seen enough. "Yes," said Ausonius slowly, almost solemnly, "I have often thought of it. It is a serious, a very serious matter--at my age." "At any age," said Saturninus. "Years will not stand in your way. You are perhaps fifty?" "Fifty-two," sighed the Prefect. "And my hair is gray!" "Not very yet! Besides, mine is too. In my case from the weight of the helmet. And it is becoming. You are a--" "Handsome old man, you are going to say," replied Ausonius smiling. "That is not exactly what pleases maidens." "Well, you need not choose a girl of sixteen." "But not one much older!" said the poet quickly. "No, my friend! I want youth and charm near me."