“Ah! thy thoughts drift far away, O Livilla. What troubles thee? Thou dreamest with thine eyes open.” “I dream of the future, my lord.” “But our future can be more happy than the present. Truly, I have been tormented by the man I hate. I am rough, but I love my family. Let us quarrel no more, O wife. Why dost thou tremble?” “I know not, my lord. I feel a sinking in my heart. A cup of wine will strengthen me.” A slave brought a cup of wine, which she hastily drank. With an effort she controlled herself and forced a smile. She and Drusus then joined Antonia, who was talking to her daughter-in-law, Agrippina. Caligula, the thin and pale twelve-year-old son of Agrippina, stood with his arm locked in his mother’s. “Thou art sad, O mother,” said Livilla to Antonia. “Ay; we were speaking of thy brother, Germanicus,” replied Antonia. “Truly, ’twas this very day, six years ago, that his ashes were laid in the mausoleum of the Divine Augustus. I had forgotten,” said Livilla. “But the lad, Caligula, bears on his face the stamp of thy noble husband, O Agrippina,” said Drusus. “Nero resembles his father more than Caligula does, O Drusus,” objected Antonia. “The eyes of a grandmother are rarely deceived,” said Agrippina, looking with pride upon her son Nero, who stood not far from her. “Then whom do I resemble?” asked Caligula, playing with his mother’s hand. “Thou lookest more like thy mother, O child,” said his grandmother, Antonia. “My masters say that I resemble the bust of my divine ancestor when he was a lad,” said Caligula, bashfully. The arrival of the emperor checked all further conversation. Silence fell upon the crowd. With his face stolid and severe, Tiberius nodded to the guests, who replied with murmured words of salutation. At the sight of the emperor Livilla appeared more at ease. She kissed him upon the forehead, and after the dinner had been announced she walked with him into the triclinium. The sumptuous dining-room, whose marble walls had echoed with the poetic words of Horace, Virgil, and Propertius, was brightly lighted by curiously wrought silver lamps, resting on graceful onyx columns. Grouped around a table in a semicircle and covered with cushions of variegated colored silks, were the couches on which the guests reclined. As the different courses were served, Drusus endeavored to enliven the conversation, but the voices which at the appearance of Tiberius had become hushed were still restrained. Tiberius conversed chiefly with Antonia. When he sometimes addressed others, he snapped his words like a snarling dog. In spite of the efforts of Drusus to be entertaining, no one was at ease. Agrippina conversed in an undertone. Her children forced an air of gayety. Livilla nervously regarded her husband. The Senators spoke only when they were addressed. “Hast thou no hunger, O father Tiberius?” asked Drusus, when the emperor had refused three courses in succession.