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Updated: June 6, 2025


Each man was married with a ring and sacrifice, and the lady was then carried over the threshold, on which a sheepskin was spread, and made mistress of the house by being bidden to be Caia to Caius. The Roman matrons were good and noble women in those days, and the highest praise of them was held to be Domum mansit, lanam fecit she stayed at home and spun wool.

Vedia put a relishing warm arm round my neck. "Call me Caia again," she whispered. It was as if we were married, had been man and wife for long past. It may have been midnight, was near midnight when she said: "I don't want to go to sleep at all. We can do without one night's sleep. We can sleep tomorrow night, when we are not together. Let's try to keep awake every minute till daylight."

The distant formality of her address, her disdainful tone, the affront of her words, chilled me like a dash of cold water. "Caia!" I stammered, "Vedia, I mean. What has happened? What is wrong?"

A step nearer I realized that Vedia's maid, a woman not unlike her in build, as faithful to her as Agathemer was to me and amazingly astute, had had the shrewdness and also the time to fool the brigands by exchanging clothes with her mistress in the carriage. "Vedia!" I exclaimed. "Caia!" "Castor!" she screamed. "You know me? You call me Caia? Are you a ghost? Are you alive? And that voice!

"But it must be now," exclaimed the young man, springing forward and trying to catch her in his arms. "Do you not see I must leave you at once? Shall it be without a promise?" The blush had turned again to little anger spots, as she evaded him. "Very well," she said slowly. "I will be Caia where thou art Caius " Sergius' face shone with exultation, and his lips parted.

Her cantata, for soloists, chorus, and piano, won first prize in a recent Danish competition. Sweden can boast of several women composers, of whom at least two are really famous. Among those working in the smaller forms is Caia Aarup, now residing in America. She is the author of a number of pleasing songs and piano compositions.

One Commodus can " "Can love his Marcia!" he interrupted, with a high-pitched laugh. He seized her, nearly crushing out her breath. "A Caius and a Caia we have been! By Jupiter, if not for you and Paulus I would have left Rome long ago to march in Alexander's wake! I would have carved me a new empire that did not stink so of politicians!"

Nothing is more common, indeed, than to see classical pictures of the Alma-Tadema school not, of course, from the brush of the master himself, who is impeccable in such details, but fair works of decent imitators in which Caia or Marcia leans gracefully in her white stole on one pensive elbow against a marble lintel, beside a courtyard decorated with a Pompeian basin, and overgrown with prickly pear or "American aloes."

"Is that why you sacrificed a white bull recently?" asked Marcia. Livius glanced at Cornificia, but her patrician face gave no hint. Caia Poppeia's was less under control, for she was younger and had nothing to conceal; she was inquisitively enjoying the entertainment and evidently did not know what was coming.

Rising, apparently without an effort, to the height of the occasion, she began and continued throughout the year to rival in her social conquests the victories of her husband in the field. Where he was Caius, she was Caia. High-born dames sought her favor, and nobles bowed low to win her support. At times she actually braved the dangers of insurrection and the battle-field.

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