Yet with it all she was pretty--pretty, said Drusus to himself, as any girl he had seen in Athens.

For there were coy dimples in her delicate little chin, her finely chiselled features were not angular, while her cheeks were aglow with a healthy colour that needed no rouge to heighten.

In short, Cornelia, like Drusus, was a Roman; and Drusus saw that she was a Roman, and was glad.
Presently something broke the reverie.

Cornelia's eyes dropped from the treetops, and lighted up with attention.

One glance across the brook into the fern thicket; then one irrepressible feminine scream; and then:-- "Cornelia!" "Quintus!" Drusus sprang forward, but almost fell into the brooklet.