There he found Lydia and Junia, Agrippa, Cypros, the alabarch and Flaccus, idly discussing the day's opening of the Feast of Flora. He had given and received greetings and merged his interests in the subject, when Marsyas appeared in the colonnade. He had taken off the kerchief usually worn about the head, and carried it on his arm. As he passed the spare old alabarch, the heavy purple proconsul and the exquisite Herod, not one of the guests there gathered but made successive comparisons between him and the others. Junia gazed at him steadily, under half-closed lids, but Lydia followed him with a look, half-sorrowful, half-happy, and wholly involuntary. Cypros glanced at his flushed forehead and damp hair. "Hast thou been into the city?" she asked with sweet solicitude. "To the harbor-master," he answered, "I have been making ready thy lord's ship." Agrippa overheard the low answer, and turned upon him irritably. "I have said that I do not depart until after the Feast of Flora," he remarked. "The men of the sea do not expect fair winds before three days," Marsyas replied, "wherefore we must abide until after the Feast." "But my raiment is not prepared," Agrippa protested. "Thou goest hence, my lord, to Rome, to be dressed by the masters of the science of raiment," Marsyas assured him. Classicus raised his head and addressed to the Essene the first remark since the memorable night of Marsyas' arrival in Alexandria. "What a game it is," he opined amiably, "to see thee managing this slippery Herod!" Agrippa flushed angrily, but Marsyas did not await the retort. "My brother's pardon," he said, "but the Herod has fine discrimination between cares becoming his exalted place, and the labors of a steward." Agrippa's face relaxed, but Classicus broke off the swinging end of a vine that reached over his shoulder and slowly pulled it to pieces. Junia sitting next to Marsyas turned to him. "So thou wilt follow Flora?" she asked. "No." "Why?" she insisted, smiling. "Thou must go to Rome, where Flora runs every day. Wilt thou turn thy back upon Egypt's joy and see only Italy's?" "Is Rome so much worse than Alexandria?" "Not worse; only more pronounced. There is more of Rome; the world gets its impulse there. So much is done; so many are doing. And, by the caprice of the Destinies, thou art to see Rome more than commonly employed." "How?" he asked. By this time, the others were talking and the two spoke unheard together.