Lucilia now joined them, having put on a handsomer dress in honor of the stranger, and stuck a rose into her chestnut hair; she sat down by Claudia and took her hand, leaning her head against her shoulder. “But tell us the whole story!” cried Quintus. “I am burning to hear a full and exact account of your adventure.” Octavia told her tale; one thing gave rise to another, and before they thought it possible, it was the hour for dinner--the first serious meal of the day, at about noon--and they adjourned to the triclinium.[63] Under no circumstances do people so soon wax intimate as at meals. Aurelius, who until now had listened more than he had spoken, soon became talkative under the cool and comfortable vaulted roof of the eating-room, and he grew quite eager and vivacious as he told of his long and dangerous voyage, of the towns he had visited, and particularly of his distant home in the north. He spoke of his distinguished father, who, as a merchant, had travelled eastwards to the remote lands east of the peninsula of the Cimbri[64] and to the fog-veiled shores of the Guttoni,[65] the Aestui[66] and the Scandii;[67] indeed Aurelius himself knew much of the wonders and peculiarities of these little-visited lands, for he had three times accompanied his father. Many a time on these expeditions had they passed the night in lonely settlements or hamlets, where not a soul among the natives understood the Roman tongue, where the bear and the aurochs fought in the neighboring woods, or eternal terrors brooded over the boundless plain. These pictures of inhospitable and desert regions, which Aurelius so vividly brought before their fancy, were those which best pleased his hearers. Here, close to the luxurious town, and surrounded by everything that could add comfort and enjoyment to life, the idea of perils so remote seemed to double their appreciation.[68] When they rose from table the ladies withdrew, to indulge in that private repose which was customary of an afternoon. Lucilia could not forbear whispering to her companion, that she would far rather have remained with the young men--that Aurelius was a quite delightful creature, modest and frank, and at the same time upright and steady--a rock in the sea on which the Pharos of a life’s happiness might be securely founded. “You know,” she added earnestly, while her eyes sparkled with excitement from under her thick curls, “Quintus is far handsomer--he is exactly like the Apollo in the Golden House[69] by the Esquiline. But he is also like the gods, in that he is apt to vanish suddenly behind a cloud, and is gone. Now Aurelius, or my soul deceives me, would be constant to those he loved. It is a pity that his rank is no higher than that of knight, and that he is so unlucky as to be a native of Trajectum.” “Oh! you thorough Roman!” laughed Claudia. “No one is good for anything in your eyes, that was not born within sight of the Seven Hills.”[70]