“Nay, then, lady,” exclaimed one of her maidens, “you must rap harder than that. What a dark and gloomy place,” she went on; “and yet you say it is accounted an honour to be chosen a Vestal virgin. Forsooth! I would account it an honour to be left out of such a choice. See how the great Palace seems to tower over us, as if it might fall and crush us as we stand. Except for the sky above, which we can only see by straining our necks till they are like to break, I can hardly believe I am in the same world as when I am in our own bright Alexandria.” Cynthia scarcely heard, or heeded if she heard, the girl’s chatter; but Portia, who was a sedate, middle-aged woman, said, “We cannot stand here all day; you will be over-fatigued before you enter this dark place, which looks like a prison.” And Portia knocked with such good will at the door that the sound of footsteps within was heard, and the Vestal in charge of the outer gate or door threw it open. The Vestal was young, and answered Cynthia’s inquiries carelessly and indifferently. “I crave permission to examine the statues of the Vestales Maximæ,” she said. “You can enter, if you choose,” was the reply; “the statues are all in the atrium.” Cynthia felt chilled by her reception; and after the brilliant light of the early day out of doors, the atrium seemed so dark and gloomy. But she passed on, and began to examine the statues. There were three or four statues of the same Vestal Maxima, Flavia Publicia, and her praises were on every side. Cynthia wandered about the atrium, trying to decipher the names. “Terentia Rufilla!” Cynthia read. “Ah! she was my father’s kinswoman. It was in her time that my aunt came hither. Cornelia Maxima! Campia Severina! Severina! Can this be the one I seek? Ah, no! for it is Severina, not Severa, and the year is 240; besides, why Campia?” After a long, fruitless search, Cynthia turned to the Vestal who was following her-- “May it please you to conduct me to the presence of the Vestal Maxima. I have a question to ask her.” The Vestal hesitated. “Nay, I do not know whether I may disturb her. She is in her own apartment.” “Say that the wife of Heraclitus, who is charged with the safe transit of the great obelisk from Alexandria, by the will of the Emperor, seeks information regarding one of the statues.” The Vestal shook her head, and, turning to a severe-looking old Vestal who was passing, seemed to refer the matter to her for decision. “Nay, surely, the Lady Maxima must not be disturbed. She has been watching all night, and is resting. Who seeks her?” “That lady, with two attendants. She says she is the wife of a great personage.” Then Cynthia, with her sweet voice, accosted the tall, severe-looking Vestal, saying, “May it please you to tell me if I can find the statue of Hyacintha Severa, one of the Vestales Maximæ?”