Claudia, who till this instant had been talking eagerly with Ulpius Trajanus, a Hispanian friend of Cinna’s, of Cocceius Nerva’s--too eagerly, Aurelius thought--now went off with Cornelia under the colonnade to see the birthday gifts which, in accordance with an old Roman custom, had been sent to Cornelia early in the day. They were tastefully laid out in the arcade on brazen tables; gold brooches and necklaces among exquisite flowers; tissues mixed with silk;[226] handsome books with purple edges, rolled on cylinders of amber and ebony; little slippers worked with pearls; beaten silver vessels from the hand of Mentor,[227] the esteemed silversmith; Arabian and Indian perfumes from the stores of Niceros,[228] the famous druggist; ribbons and trimmings of amethyst-purple;[229] stuffed birds, fruits from Asia Minor, and a hundred other costly trifles from every quarter of the world made up the tribute sent to this spoilt daughter of a senatorial house. Aurelius took advantage of the opportunity, and went to join the young girls. Claudia affected great surprise at seeing him, but immediately after gave the young man her hand with frank warmth, as though ashamed in truth of any disingenuous coquetry towards such a man as Aurelius. Still, the conversation they began was not particularly lively; they stood in front of the tables and made the usual remarks--this present was charming, that offering was splendid. Cornelia declared, that prettiest of all were the exquisite roses[230] that Quintus had given her--and Claudia sighed, very softly, still she sighed. At this moment a grinning head appeared in the frame of a door close by. This was Chloe, Cornelia’s maid. “I beg your pardon,” she said with comical importance. “But if I disturb you, it is from sheer necessity. The steward of the tables[231] cannot arrange the places for the company.” “Indeed, how is that?” asked Cornelia severely. “Did I not give him full and exact instructions? He seems to have a short memory.” “Excuse us, dear mistress--but he had not counted on Cocceius Nerva. Come and help us, pray.” Cornelia frowned, but did as she was requested; her pallid face colored scarlet; such a question seemed to her vulgar and trivial, and she felt that shock to her taste which jars on a superior nature, when the details of daily life intrude on a moment of exalted feeling. Those roses from Paestum,[232] that thought of Quintus! what a delicious flood of happy feeling they symbolized! And Chloe’s appearance, in the very midst of this beauty and happiness, wounded her like the empty farcicality of an Atellanian buffoon.[233] Aurelius and Claudia were left to gaze at the display of birthday gifts with redoubled attention; you might have fancied they had never before seen such things as flowers or bracelets. “How delicious!” said Claudia breathing the perfume of a splendid rose-bush.