Now that Aurelia had come, there was no motive for reserve on that subject with Decius, and indeed they conversed of their kinswoman with perfect openness, pitying rather than condemning her, and wondering what would result from her presence under one roof with the rigid Petronilla.

Not on Aurelia's account did Basil droop his head now and then, look about him vacantly, bite his lip, answer a question at hazard, play nervously with his dagger's hilt.

All at once, with an abruptness which moved his companion's surprise, he made an inquiry, seemingly little relevant to their topic.
'Heard you ever of a Gothic princess--a lady of the lineage of Theodoric--still living in Italy ?' 'Never,' responded Decius, with a puzzled smile.

'Is there such a one ?' 'I am told so--I heard it by chance.

Yet I know not who she can be.