Chapter 1

‘That loathsome beast!’ roared Marcellus, leaping to his feet. ‘I’ll tear his dirty tongue out! I’ll gouge his eyes out with my thumbs! Why haven’t you told me this before?’

‘You have given the reason,’ said Lucia, dejectedly. ‘I was afraid of the tongue-tearing—and eye-gouging. Had my brother been a puny, timid man, I might have told him at once. But my brother is strong and brave—and reckless. Now that I have told him, he will kill Gaius; and my brother, whom I so dearly love, will be put to death, and my father, too, I suppose. And my mother will be banished or imprisoned, and—’

‘What did Mother think about this?’ broke in Marcellus.

‘I did not tell her.’

‘Why not? You should have done so—instantly!’

‘Then she would have told Father. That would have been as dangerous as telling my brother.’

‘You should have told the Emperor!’ spluttered Marcellus. ‘Tiberius is no monument to virtue, but he would have done something about that! He’s not so very fond of Gaius.’

‘Don’t be foolish! That half-crazy old man? He would probably have gone into one of his towering tantrums, and scolded Gaius in the presence of everybody; and then he would have cooled off and forgotten all about it. But Gaius wouldn’t have forgotten! No—I decided to ignore it. Nobody knows—but Diana.’

‘Diana! If you thought you had such a dangerous secret, why should you tell that romping infant Diana?’

‘Because she was afraid of him, too, and understood my reasons for not wanting to be left alone with him. But Diana is not a baby, Marcellus. She is nearly sixteen. And—if you pardon my saying so—I think you should stop mussing her hair, and tickling her under the chin, when she comes here to visit me—as if she were five, and you a hundred.’

‘Sorry! It hadn’t occurred to me that she would resent my playful caresses. I never thought of her except as a child—like yourself.’

‘Well—it’s time you realized that Diana is a young woman. If she resents your playful caresses, it is not because they are caresses but because they are playful.’ Lucia hesitated; then continued softly, her eyes intent on her brother’s gloomy face. ‘She might even like your caresses—if they meant anything. I think it hurts her, Marcellus, when you call her “Sweetheart.”‘

‘I had not realized that Diana was so sensitive,’ mumbled Marcellus. ‘She is certainly stormy enough when anything displeases her. She was audacious enough to demand that her name be changed.’

‘She hated to be called Asinia, Marcellus,’ said Lucia, loyally. ‘Diana is prettier, don’t you think?’

‘Perhaps,’ shrugged Marcellus. ‘Name of a silly goddess. The name of the Asinius stock is noble; means something!’

‘Don’t be tiresome, Marcellus!’ snapped Lucia. ‘What I am saying is: Diana would probably enjoy having you call her “Sweetheart”—if—’

Marcellus, who had been restlessly panthering about, drew up to inspect his sister with sudden interest.

‘Are you trying to imply that this youngster thinks she is fond of me?’

‘Of course! And I think you’re pretty dumb, not to have noticed it! Come and sit down—and compose yourself. Our breakfast is on the way.’