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She looked at the Pontiff. He let go her hand. "You will now go with your servitor to be clothed as befits your calling." He indicated one of Causidiena's attendants, a solidly built woman, like a Tuscan villager, who carried over her arm a mass of fresh white garments and robes.
It so happened that Causidiena first questioned some of the maid-servants, who all hated Meffia and liked Brinnaria. Therefore the ones interrogated told a story as much at variance with the facts as they saw fit. Brinnaria, after she was again dry-clad, quaked inwardly in anticipation of Causidiena's wrath and suffered a good deal more at the thought of her pained, silent displeasure.
This was not easy to accomplish, for Causidiena's mind was perfectly clear, her knowledge of every inch of the Atrium enabled her to move about it unhesitatingly at all hours of the day and night, her sense of duty urged her to do all that she had ever done when her sight was perfect, and, like most blind persons, she resented any reference, expressed or implied, to her infirmity.
Life in the Atrium altered chiefly through the growing up of Terentia, whose fifteenth birthday was celebrated soon after Almo left Italy, and by the steady waning of Causidiena's eyesight. She could still recognize familiar persons when between her and the strong light of a door or window in the daytime; she could still place pieces of wood on the fire, if it was burning well.
Agonies indeed Brinnaria suffered in her efforts to live up to Causidiena's ideas of what she should be. On the whole she succeeded pretty well and committed few errors of deportment. Outwardly she controlled herself from the first; for, before her first cowed sensations had worn off, her adoration of Causidiena had gained full sway over her.
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