ill too weak to advise or help you. Take
courage. What happened to your poor father?"

"Struck by apoplexy, dead--dead!" wept the girl. "Poor, dear little
orphan," said the widow in a husky voice and she clasped Arsinoe closely
in her arms. For some time she allowed the girl to weep silently on her
bosom; then she spoke:

"Give me your hand my daughter and tell me how it has all happened so
suddenly. Your father was quite well yesterday and now? Yes my girl life
is a grave matter, you have to learn it while you are still young. I know
you have six little brothers and sisters and perhaps you may soon lack
even the necessaries of life. But that is no disgrace; I am certainly
even poorer than you and yet, by God's help, I hope to be able to advise
you and perhaps even to assist you. Every thing that I can possibly do
shall be done, but first I must know how matters stand with you and what
you need."

There was so much kindness and consolation in the Christian's tones, so
much to revive hope that Arsinoe willingly complied with her demand and
began her story.

At first, to be sure, her pride shunned confessing how poor, how
absolutely destitute they were; but Hannah's questions soon brought the
truth to light; and when Arsinoe perceived that the widow understood the
misfortunes of their house in their fullest extent, and that it would be
unavailing to conceal how matters stood with her and the children, she
yielded to the growing impulse to relieve her soul by pouring out her
griefs and described frankly and without reserve the whole position of
the family, to the good woman who listened with attention and sympathy.
The widow asked about each child separately, and ended by enquiring who,
in Arsinoe's absence, was left in charge of the little ones; and when she
heard that the old slave-woman to whose care the children were entrusted,
was infirm and half-blind, she shook her head thoughtfully.

"Here help is needed and at once," she said decidedly. "You must go back
to the little ones presently. Your sister must not at present hear of
your father's death; when your future lot is to some extent secure we
will tell her by degrees all that has occurred. Now come with me, it is
by the Lord's guidance that you came here at the right moment."

Hannah conducted Arsinoe to Paulina's villa, first into a small room at
the side of the entrance hall, where the deaconesses took off their veils
and their warm wraps in winter evenings