The Prefect took a turn or two up and down the room, biting his thumb‐nail in deep cogitation. He scarcely knew whether to carry matters with a high hand and flatly forbid the importunate lady. He knew her determined nature and her energy, and was well aware that she possessed sufficient knowledge to make herself extremely troublesome, if she thought proper. At the same time, her presence, along with himself, in the island of Capreae, where his intended bride awaited him, was highly fraught with danger, on account of the jealousy naturally to be expected on the part of that princess, were the matter to come to her ears, as it was only too possible it might, in that circumscribed domain. Perplexed as he was, therefore, a sudden idea like an inspiration struck him and filled him with satisfaction. ‘Well, carissime?’ quoth the watchful Plautia, as the rays of his relief flooded his countenance. ‘Hush—hush, girl! That no longer!’ ‘What, then?’ she asked jeeringly. ‘Nothing whatever. No more folly!’ ‘Agreed! You have thought of a plan. Tell it!’ ‘When I choose my companions I can smuggle you under the wing of one of them. It can easily be explained. You may perhaps be obliged to set out at a different time; but that will matter little.’ ‘Nothing! When am I to be assured of this arrangement?’ ‘To‐morrow you shall know all particulars. What more do you want of me, for I am full of business? Nevertheless, you see how a simple word from you brought me to your side.’ ‘I want nothing more. You are now free for your royal Livia.’ ‘Free, but not forgotten—at least on my part.’ ‘Farewell, Prefect!’ said Plautia, waving her white hand. ‘For the last time, then,’ he said, laughingly catching it and kissing it. ‘To‐morrow I shall hear from you without fail?’