‘I have no claim upon your hospitality, Caesar,’ replied Plautia; ‘I came hither on a trifling concern of my own, and sought to disturb no one. The poor house in which I lodged was freely chosen, and willingly endured for the short time of my stay. To‐day was to have seen my departure, and indeed will do so. I am grieved that you should have learnt of my presence, and so caused you kindly trouble on my account. If my intrusion into Capreae is wrong and impertinent, I crave your gracious pardon and indulgence. Indeed, no disrespect was intended.’ ‘Dismiss all that from your mind,’ said Tiberius; ‘the only fact which gives me pain is, that you should have sought to deprive us of the delight of your fair presence; I repeat, it was unkind.’ ‘It is not for me to thrust myself upon a stranger’s hospitality—much less upon Caesar’s.’ ‘Hospitality despised is the grievance, Plautia.’ The old Emperor’s manner was highly‐bred, perfectly graceful, and polished, and a smile gently parted his lips. Nevertheless, in spite of the delicate, deprecating speech which fell so softly, slowly, but fluently from his honied tongue, every word seemed but the tinkling of artifice. Had she dared to retort as she felt, she would have said that hospitality enforced was as grievous a burden as hospitality despised. With this idea firmly in possession of her mind, she recognised her jailer before her, and felt the grim hardness of the captor’s hand toying with her through the soft sheathing of ceremony and politeness. Nevertheless it was not her nature to feel fear, and she never quailed. ‘That is all past,’ continued the Emperor; ‘youth and loveliness are right and might in themselves. In their presence it is possible for no ruffle of the mind to remain unsmoothed. Now that you have graciously honoured my house, all is well, and——’ ‘Pardon, Caesar! I was brought hither, favour or no favour,’ interrupted Plautia majestically. ‘But now since you have honoured me,’ continued he, with the same unruffled smile, ‘my spirit is at rest. Be pleased to use my house and all it contains, as if it were your own. Your will shall be law within the limits of Capreae. Small as this island is, it contains some beauties, which we shall be eager to show, and which have been deemed worthy of notice. It may be you have never visited them before.’ ‘Once as a child, I think,’ replied Plautia, with a rigid aspect. ‘Your proffered kindness is beyond words of mine to acknowledge, but I regret that my engagements will not allow to take advantage of it. I must return home without further delay—it is imperative.’ Tiberius shook his head and forefinger at her playfully. ‘I could not allow you to carry out a determination which you would regret to your dying day. The island would grow black with scowls were I to suffer the fair Plautia to quit it in such haste. Besides which, the furious wind and sea renders it impossible. Hark, how the storm roars!’