"Taking, therefore, an opportunity when for once Viola unaccompanied had gone with her father to visit some neighbouring Roman nobles, she drew the boy aside and asked him to show her the surrounding country. "’I have,’ she said, ’not dared to go beyond the enclosure, fearing the wild beasts, but with you as companion I should not fear.’ "It was against the rules for any of the female slaves to go outside the boundary of the dwelling-place without permission, but Myra was at this time in favour, and no one left behind would have dared to interfere with her actions. She was known to be vindictive, and, having the ear of her master, would have had little difficulty in revenging an insult. "So Aureus consented, and they wandered out into the forest, following the course of a small stream. At length they came to an opening in the trees where the sun shone pleasantly upon a bank of ferns. Here they sat and rested. At their feet was a deep pool in which the boy had often bathed; and Myra, as she reclined on the bank, dabbled her bare legs in the clear water to wash the dust from them. "’Do you often come here with your mistress?’ she asked. ’You seem always with her.’ "’When we were children,’ the boy said, ’we often stole out here in the summer-time to bathe in the cool water. But we do not bathe here now.’ "’Why not?’ his companion asked. "The boy looked up into her face with a comical, innocent expression. ’I do not quite know,’ he said. ’She is too old to bathe now, except in the bath; only slave girls bathe out of doors when they are grown up.’ "’So you think it does not matter what we do?’ she said. "’You are different from the others,’ he answered. ’You wear a tunic, and not an ordinary dress.’ "’You call this a tunic, do you?’ she said, pointing to the thin garment which partially concealed the full sensuous beauty of her limbs. ’This is not much of a robe, this summer thing. I might almost as well be without it.’ "’Do you feel cold?’ he asked. "’Feel me,’ she said. "The boy placed his hand upon her bare neck as she moved closer to him. ’You are quite hot,’ he said, ’your skin almost burns me. But how soft and smooth it is! Tell me, why are women so much more beautiful than men?’ "’I don’t think they are,’ the girl answered. ’You, for instance, are more beautiful than Viola. Look at your arm;’ and as she said this she laid her dark hand upon his shoulder. ’How fair you are by the side of any of us! Look at your hair;’ and she ran her fingers through the bright soft waves of gold. ’Do you not think that it is more beautiful than our long dark tresses?’ "’No, I do not,’ he said. ’Viola’s hair is beautiful, and so is yours; far more beautiful than mine.’ "’There you are mistaken,’ she said. ’You do not know. Come and look.’