"
The lawyer rang a small silver bell on his desk, and Alyrus appeared
at the door.
"See that the Lady Octavia's chair is ready."
The Moor vanished.
"And now, my lady, I trust that you will not be at all anxious about
this matter. I will attend to it."
"I thank you. Greetings to your wife, and we hope to see you both soon
at our Villa. The grapes are almost ready for the gathering. My
children are counting much on the festivities for the Vendemmia. Can
you not come at that time, you and Claudia, with your son and
daughter. It will delight Hermione and Marcus. I will send a messenger
to remind you again before the Feast of the Grapes."
"Claudia has been very ill, my lady. I fear that she could not bear
the motion of the chair so soon. But I will tell her of your gentle
bidding to the feast, when the God Bacchus is adored with so much
mirth."
A cloud crossed Octavia's face.
"The God Bacchus--" she began, but stopped. The warning she had
received but a few days before from a Christian high in the service of
the Emperor, rang in her ears.
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