“Send her off,” was the scornful reply; “she looks like it, forsooth. Verily, send her off, nor waste thy own time in prating. Why, child, those who aspire to such an office as this do not come to present themselves like beggars.” Hyacintha’s breast heaved, and tears sprang to her eyes. Clœlia now spoke-- “The maiden has suffered perils on the way from Britain. She was brought with her brother to my house three days ago. The ships were beset by pirates, and everything the maiden possessed is lost. My son, the brave Caius, brought a small galley safe into the Portus Augusti a few days past, and he can tell you of the truth of my story.” “I wear upon my breast,” Hyacintha faltered, “a pierced gold coin attached to a chain. This coin bears on it the letters of my father’s house, and his name. “I bore with me,” she continued, “a letter and many precious things addressed to the great lady, Terentia Rufilla, but the pirate ship boarded that on which my baggage was placed, and I reached Rome in a sorry plight.” There was now a very perceptible change in the manner of the two women. The family of Rufilla was one to win respect, and the elder said-- “Will it please you to follow me?” These words were addressed to Hyacintha, and she was about to obey when the sound of steps in the long cloisters made the women turn. And there, coming from the shadows into the dim light where they stood, was the same graceful, dignified lady who had passed by them on their way from the Forum. Terentia Rufilla was no longer young--indeed, it was impossible for the virgins to attain the highest office at a very early age. Ten years had to pass as a noviciate, and ten more was generally considered as a necessary probation before the honour of Vestal Maxima could be aspired to. The servants and attendants all bowed low as the lady approached, and Hyacintha’s heart beat so loudly that she could almost hear it. “What brings you hither, my daughter?” the lady asked. “I am the daughter of Severus, of the house of Rufilla,” said the little maiden. “I crave to be admitted to the service of the temple, and my father has sent me hither from the city of Verulam in Britain.” “Thy father! Yes, a post brought in despatches from Verulam yesternight, and there was a letter from thy father, Severus. Welcome, my daughter,” the lady said, bending over the little shrinking figure. “Welcome; and I will receive thee here and examine thee on some matters necessary to be known ere thy training begin. How old art thou?” “I am eleven years old, lady,” Hyacintha said. “Eleven! Ten is the accustomed age. Thy companions have mostly entered upon their services at ten, but we will not let that hinder us, if other matters prove convenient. Is that good woman related to thee?” “Nay, lady,” said Clœlia, advancing; and then, encouraged by Terentia’s kindly manner, Clœlia drew nearer, and, bowing low, kissed the hand extended to her.