The flattering words of the tempter, and the more fascinating smiles and glances of the bewitching siren, were not thrown away on the young noble; and these, with the soft perfumed atmosphere, the splendidly voluptuous furniture of the saloon, and the delicious music, which was floating all the while upon his ears from the blended instruments and voices of unseen minstrels, conspired to plunge his senses into a species of effeminate and luxurious languor, which suited well the ulterior views of Catiline.
"One thing alone has occurred," resumed the host, after some moments spent in light jests and trivial conversation, "to decrease our pleasure: Cethegus was to have dined with us to-day, and Decius Brutus, with his inimitable wife Sempronia. But they have disappointed us; and, save Aurelia only, and our poor little Lucia, there will be none but ourselves to eat my Umbrian boar."
"Have you a boar, my Sergius?" exclaimed Curius, eagerly, who was addicted to the pleasures of the table, almost as much as the charms of women. "By Pan, the God of Hunters! we are in luck to-day!"
"But wherefore comes not Sempronia?" inquired Fulvia, not very much displeased by the absence of a rival beauty.
"Brutus is called away, it appears, suddenly to Tarentum upon business; and she"--
"Prefers entertaining our Cethegus, alone in her own house, I fancy," interrupted Fulvia.
"Exactly so," replied Catiline, with a smile of meaning.
"Do you think her so handsome?" asked Fulvia, favoring him with one of her most melting glances.
"The handsomest woman," he replied, "with but one exception, I ever had the luck to look upon."
"Indeed!--and pray, who is the exception?" asked the lady, very tartly.
There happened to be lying on a marble slab, near to the place where they were standing, a small round mirror of highly polished steel, set in a frame of tortoiseshell and gold. Paullus had noticed it before she spoke; and taking it up without a moment's pause, he raised it to her face.
"Look!" he said, "look into that, and blush at your question."
"Prettily said, my Paullus; thy wit is as fleet as thy foot is speedy," said the conspirator.
"Flatterer!" whispered the lady, evidently much delighted; and then, in a lower voice she added, "Do you indeed think so?"
