"Oh, do not name him! Do not mock me! You know best from whom I learnt to do that for which I must blush." Theodora shot a fierce glance at her friend, who, without noticing it, continued: "Heaven knows that Belisarius himself was not more faithful than I, until I came to this court! It was you, Empress, who taught me that these selfish men, occupied with affairs of state, war, and ambition, neglect us when they have become our husbands, and no longer value us when they possess us. You taught me that it is no sin to accept the innocent homage, the flattering devotion which is denied to us by our husbands, from friends who court us because they still hope. God is my witness, that it is nothing but this sweet incense which Belisarius denies me, and which my vain weak heart sorely needs, that I expect from Anicius." "Fortunately for me, it will soon tire him out," said Theodora to herself. "And yet," continued Antonina, "even this, I fear, is a sin against Belisarius. Oh, how great, how noble he is! If only he were not too great for this little heart." And she buried her face in her hands. "The pitiful creature!" thought the Empress, "too weak for vice, as for virtue." At this moment Agave, the beautiful Thessalian slave, entered the room with a large bunch of splendid roses. "From him," she whispered to her mistress. "From whom?" asked Theodora. But Antonina just then looked up, and Agave made a sign of warning. The Empress, in order to occupy her, gave Antonina the roses. "If you please, put them into that marble vase." As Antonina turned her back upon them to obey, Agave whispered: "From him whom you kept hidden here all day yesterday; from the handsome Anicius," the pretty girl added, blushing. But she had scarcely uttered the imprudent words, than she gave a loud cry, and held her left arm to her lips. The Empress struck her in the face with the still bloody lancet. "I will teach you to notice whether men are handsome or ugly," she cried furiously. "You will keep to the spinning-room for four weeks. Go at once! and do not show yourself again in my ante-rooms." The weeping girl left the room, hiding her face in her dress. "What has she done?" asked Antonina, coming forward. "She let the scent-bottle fall," answered Galatea quickly, and picked one up from the floor. "Mistress, I have finished." "Then let the dressers in, and whoever else waits in the ante-room. Will you, meanwhile, look at these verses, Antonina? They are the newest poems of Arator, 'The Deeds of the Apostles,' and very edifying. This particularly, 'The Stoning of St. Stephen.' But read, and judge for yourself."