The state apartments were on this lower storey of the vestals’ house, and as the floor was thirty feet below the Nova Via, with the walls resting against the Palatine, it must have been very damp and chill; the pure air of heaven could never reach it; and in spite of double walls, double floors, and hot-water currents--of which distinct traces are left--it could not have been a healthy abode. The living rooms from which Hyacintha and Lucia had descended were, perhaps, more salubrious, but the Imperial Palace, rising at that time one hundred and fifty feet above the building, must have always over-shadowed the whole house, and prevented the light from entering, as well as the air. A heavy curtain was drawn aside by one of the servants of the temple, and the next moment Hyacintha found herself in the presence of the Vestal Maxima, her father’s kinswoman. She had been keeping watch that night in the temple, and wore a different and more elaborate dress--as the sign of her high vocation--than that in which Hyacintha had seen her on the preceding evening. The Vestal Maxima wore a long stole of snow-white linen, drooping gracefully to her feet. A loose hood, falling a little from the back of the head, displayed a close-fitting cap, bound with gold fillets, and lay in easy folds over her shoulders. A large pallium, of a deep violet colour, was gathered over her left arm, and wound closely round her waist. Terentia Rufilla was in the autumn of her life, and when the little novice made her profound reverence, as Lucia had instructed her to do, a smile, which was half pitying and half admiring, spread over her noble countenance. “Welcome, little maiden,” she said. “Thy name is of Greek origin, and scarcely one to be registered as a vestal. Was that name chosen by the noble Severus?” “I know not, lady,” said Hyacintha. “Methinks my mother chose it because she loved the flower and its sweet scent, but I cannot tell.” “It will, perhaps, be better to register thy name as Severa, and yet Hyacintha suits thee so well, I think it must stand. “Hyacintha Severa, the daughter of the noble Severus,” she said, waving her hand to the maidens; “lead the way.” The maidens turned towards an entrance to the chamber opposite to that by which Lucia had entered, and as two of their number held the curtain aside, the others passed through, chanting a low monotonous song as they went. The sun had risen now, and the sky above the temple court was bright, and of the indescribably lovely blue of early day. The light fell upon the vestals’ white garments till they glistened like snow, and upon the short clustering curls of little Hyacintha’s head till they shone like gold. The procession crossed the court and ascended a flight of wide and very shallow steps, shadowed by the portico, on which were seen, in bas-relief, many figures, illustrating the past history of the vestals, from the earliest date to the time of which I write.