These were the very thoughts, that had passed through Cornelia’s mind a score of times during the last few days. How was it then, that this confirmation from the chamberlain’s lips sounded so revolting? How was it, that the courtier’s utterance of them almost roused her to denial, and that her heart refused to ratify the conclusions, which her reason had so lately approved? But she had no time for these reflections. She must play a part--the part of a yielding, over-persuaded victim. She shuddered with hatred and disgust as she thought of it, but there was no choice. “Ah!” she sighed. “Caesar’s commands would not have terrified me half so much, if it had not been for the recollection--I do not know whether you heard--Barbillus, that mean trickster....” Of course she knew that Parthenius had long since been fully informed of all that had taken place in the sanctuary of Isis; otherwise how should Caesar have employed him to prepare the way for his own coming? But she affected innocence so skilfully, that the courtier was deceived. “Yes, yes,” he said; “I know all about it.” “Then you can understand, that I must have been frightened. If Caesar had not been so violent, if Barbillus had not so cruelly betrayed my confidence. I am sure--things might have been different.” Parthenius smirked affably. “Well, well; all is well that ends well. This may be set right yet. I am truly delighted to find, that the account Caesar gave me of your obstinacy was exaggerated.” “I, obstinate?” sighed Cornelia with the expression of a baby of ten. “Far from it. I love nothing so much as peace and quietness. But, you see--I am afraid of Caesar.” As she said it, it sounded too helplessly foolish; but Parthenius, enchanted at his success, did not notice that she overacted the part. “You little simpleton,” he said kindly. “Do not be uneasy. I will give him a hint. It is plain to any man, that a lily must be plucked with greater care than a cabbage. Though he likes cabbage now and then, does our gracious sovereign,” he added with a laugh. Parthenius carried on this strange conversation some little time longer. Then, hearing steps outside, he signed to Cornelia to withdraw into the middle room, while he himself went to the entrance. He threw the door wide open, for it was the Emperor, followed by his favorite slave, little Phaeton who, by reason of his tender years, was reckoned as nobody in such circumstances. Domitian wore a long and ample lacerna, and had drawn the hood over his face. When the door was closed behind him, he threw off the wrap, and stood in a short-sleeved tunic of colored flowered stuff, with a gold fillet round his thin hairs, smiling mysteriously at the chamberlain. “Well?” he said, glancing round the room.