“And, at a word from the Emperor, the Senate framed and passed a decree relieving Almo of all the legal disabilities inhering in his past. He has been restored to his former rank in the nobility, has been confirmed in the possession of all inheritances which he might otherwise have forfeited, has been declared free from all stain and entirely fit to hold any office in the service of the Republic. The decree has been engrossed, sealed and signed by the Emperor. Almo is a nobleman as before. Are you pleased?” “I am,” Brinnaria confessed. Lutorius nodded. “Now, do not take umbrage,” he said, “at what I am about to ask. If you must say no, say no without being offended. May I tell the Emperor what you have said to me?” “Certainly,” Brinnaria authorized him. “Aurelius is so good a friend to me that sometimes I think he is the best friend I have on earth.” After an interval of some days the Pontiff hinted that the Emperor desired to see her. Brinnaria’s disposition to stand upon ceremony and to insist on her full rights as a Vestal had waned as she grew to maturity. In her dealing with Aurelius she had long laid it aside altogether and likewise with Lutorius, both were so unassuming, so manifestly actuated by the sincerest regard for her. Now she obediently sent in her application for an audience with the Emperor. It was accorded her about twenty days after Almo’s fight. Aurelius came straight to the point. “Daughter,” he said, “I want you to tell me the entire truth. You can confide in me without reservation and you should do so without hesitation, since I ask it. “What I wish you to tell me is this: Has your lover’s behavior effaced your regard for him, as you asserted to Lutorius, or were you self-deceived? Is everything at an end between you and will you ignore his existence in future and remain a Vestal for life or have your feelings overcome your displeasure and are you again thinking of him and of your future as you did in the past?” “Castor be good to me,” Brinnaria confessed. “I did think his folly had alienated me from him forever, but the more I brood over it all the more I realize that no matter what he has done or does or will do I love him just as genuinely as if he deserved it, and as far as I can judge I shall love him to the last breath I draw. I am ashamed of my weakness, but I foresee that, when my service is over, I shall be just as eager to marry him as if he had been all he ought to have been.” “You please me,” said Aurelius, “particularly in the way you put it.