In half an hour she was again within her room, attempting a perusal of her book. But, though her eyes rested on the letters, she never read twenty lines. Very soon she was again wandering here and there, aimlessly and wearily, under the influence of her disturbed thoughts. Presently she found herself standing before the mirror of her dressing‐room, gazing at her reflected face with an unconscious and preoccupied stare. Becoming attentive, or waking up, as it were, she noticed that either the fresh breeze out‐of‐doors, or else the ferment of her mind, or both combined, had more than restored the rich warmth of colour which was the crown of her vivid type of beauty. Its brilliance was, perhaps, even a trifle more than customary; yet it was magnificent, and no one understood that better than herself. She drew herself up, folded her arms across her ample bosom, and smiled sidelong at herself with proud satisfaction. A new idea had possessed her, and she nodded approvingly to herself. Her black orbs sparkled with a careless, reckless light. One passion had ruled her, but that was all over. She had drunk to the dregs of the anguish which stimulates despair, and she would meet Caesar on his own ground. Wearied and harassed beyond her patience by the disappointment which poisoned her thoughts, and which was yet increased by the unaccustomed restriction and monotony of her position, she rushed from the idea of remaining passively watching. With the recklessness of a gamester who has lost all, she would go boldly forth. To act on the aggressive, with such potent weapons as her wit and beauty, would be more likely to achieve her liberty, than standing defiantly at bay in the corner of a cage. It might, moreover, bring her more than mere liberty. She knew not what fate might have in store for her; and, in truth, she cared little. At least she might calculate upon the relief of some amount of novelty and excitement. It is better to die in a dash for liberty, than to lie and rot away in a dungeon. It was then resolved. She would recover from her indisposition, and appear at Caesar’s supper‐table, wreathed with smiles and graciousness. It might be called a feminine masked reconnaissance in force. She, therefore, caused her intention to become known to the domestics when the hour for supper approached; and through them it was conveyed to the Imperial ears. To arm herself was the next and most important business. Her own wardrobe, under the circumstances of her visit, was most humble and scanty; but, in the plentiful supply already alluded to, she had neither difficulty nor scruple in selecting an attire to her satisfaction. The protracted and minute process of the toilet completed, she stood forth brilliant, peerless, and resistless. The admiration of the women broke forth in murmurs as she swept on in the wake of Zeno and his people, who had come to marshal her to table. * * * * * * *