"I trust in God," was all that she would say.
In her house were no gods, no images. Flowers there were, in
abundance, the rooms were bowers of beauty, the table, with its
spotless cloth of fine white linen, bore silver vases filled with
roses and autumn blossoms, but there were no shrines and no statutes.
On this Feast of the Grapes around Rome Bacchus was worshipped and
much wine was drunk, until the people lost their senses and became
brutes. In Octavia's home, the feast was observed with games and songs
and merriment, but all was done decently and in order. It was because
her views were not theirs that many of the friends who had visited
them when the Senator was alive--now refused to associate with the
Lady Octavia, although they could not openly ignore her on account of
her great wealth.
It drew toward evening. The days were still long, and Martius planned
to return home by moonlight. At seven o'clock, they were eating supper
in an arbor at the side of the Villa. The big, round moon was rising
over the Alban Hills, soon it would be a great lamp in the sky.
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