While I was in this mood my hostess came to chat with me. Nemestronia, at eighty-odd, was as dainty and charming an old lady as the sun ever shone on. And as lovable as any woman alive. I loved her dearly, as all Rome loved her dearly, and I ranked myself high among her countless honorary grandsons, for her motherly ways made her seem an honorary grandmother to all young noblemen whom she favored. After a heart-warming chat she said: "I must go now, by Galen's orders. Before I go I want to ask you whether you are coming here tomorrow?" "Certainly!" I cried, looking about me with delight. "Could there, can there, be in Rome a more Elysian spot in which to feel health being restored to one?" She beamed at me. "Be sure to be here," she said. "You will not regret coming." Between naps that afternoon and before I slept that night I soothed myself with the hope that I was, by Nemestronia's influence, to have an interview with Vedia. Next morning the weather was beautiful, the sky clear, the air neither too cool nor too warm, the breeze soft and steady. Nemestronia's water-garden appeared to me even more delightful than the day before. I admired the lotus trees, the water-lily pads in the pools, the jets of the fountains, the bright strips of flowers along the pools, particularly some water- flags or some flowers resembling water-flags. I was idling in the sun on a cushion which Agathemer had arranged for me on a marble seat against the upper wall, nearly midway of the garden, but in sight of the postern gate by which I had entered. So idling and dreaming day dreams I let my eyes rove languidly about the scene before me. While meditating and staring at the pavement at my feet I heard footsteps on the walk and looked up. To my amazement I saw Egnatius Capito approaching. No wonder I was amazed. I knew him but slightly. I should never have thought of asking to see him, as I had asked to be allowed to see several of my semi-intimates. Agathemer had insisted that I postpone seeing them, because an interview with any of them was likely to overtire me. I knew that no one could have entered that garden without Agathemer's knowledge. I could not conceive how Capito came to be there. He greeted me formally and asked permission to seat himself beside me. I gave it rather grudgingly. He asked after my health and I answered only less grudgingly. "I conjecture," he said, "that you are surprised to see me here?" "I am surprised," I said shortly. "Will you permit me to explain?" he asked courteously. I could not be less courteous than he and signified my assent. "Your secretary," he said, "is of the opinion that your illness, while caused by your injuries in the affrays into which you were entrapped, was greatly intensified by your chagrin at finding yourself embroiled with both the Vedian and Satronian clans, and he also thinks that brooding over the condition of affairs has delayed your recovery."