All that Cornelia heard of that absent statesman was from hostile lips; consequently she had him painted to her as blood-thirsty, treacherous, of flagrant immorality, with his one object to gather a band of kindred spirits to his cause, and become despot.

And to hear such reports and yet to keep confident that Drusus was not sacrificing both himself and her in a worse than unworthy cause--this tested her to the uttermost.
To add to her troubles, Lucius Ahenobarbus was ever thrusting in his attentions at every party and at the theatre; and her uncle openly favoured his suit.
"I wish you would be more friendly to him," remarked Lentulus on one occasion.

"I should be glad to have a closer tie between his family and ours." "Uncle," said Cornelia, much distressed, "I do not think I understand what you mean." "Well," chuckled Lentulus, moving away, "think it over until you do understand." Cornelia had been reading in the library when this conversation took place.

There was to be another party that evening at the house of Marcus Favonius, a prominent anti-Caesarian, and since it was growing late in the afternoon, it was time to dress.

Cornelia went into her own room, and was summoning her maids, when a young lady of about her own age, who affected to be on terms of considerable intimacy, was announced--Herennia, a daughter of a certain rich old eques, Caius Pontius, who had kept out of politics and hoarded money, which his daughter was doing her best to spend.
Herennia was already dressed for the party.