hat I
think there is a way for us both out of the difficulty! You go to your
sick wife, and I will take the key to the senator as soon as I have
finished my devotions."

The door-keeper considered for a few minutes, and then acceded to the
request of the future presbyter of Raithu, while at the same time he
begged him not to linger too late.

As he went by the senator's house he smelt the savor of roast meat; he
was a poor man and thought to himself, "They fast in there just when it
pleases them, but as for us, we fast when it pleases us least."

The good smell, which provoked this lament, rose from a roast sheep,
which was being prepared as a feast-supper for the senator and the
assembled members of his household; even the slaves shared in the late
evening meal.

Petrus and Dame Dorothea sat in the Greek fashion, side by side in a half
reclining position on a simple couch, and before them stood a table which
no one shared with them, but close to which was the seat for the grown up
children of the house. The slaves squatted on the ground nearer to the
door, and crowded into two circles, each surrounding a steaming dish, out
of which they helped themselves to the brown stew of lentils with the
palm of the hand. A round, grey-looking cake of bread lay near each, and
was not to be broken till the steward Jethro had cut and apportioned the
sheep. The juicy pieces of the back and thighs of the animal were offered
to Petrus and his family to choose from, but the carver laid a slice for
each slave on his cake--a larger for the men and a smaller for the women.
Many looked with envy on the more succulent piece that had fallen to a
neighbor's share, but not even those that had fared worst dared to
complain, for a slave was allowed to speak only when his master addressed
him, and Petrus forbid even his children to discuss their food whether to
praise it or to find fault.

In the midst of the underlings sat Miriam; she never ate much, and all
meat was repulsive to her, so she pushed the cut from the ribs that was
given to her over to an old garden-woman, who sat opposite, and who had
often given her a fruit or a little honey, for Miriam loved sweet things.
Petrus spoke not a word to-day to his slaves, and very little even to his
family; Dorothea marked the deep lines between his grave eyes, not
without anxiety, and noted how he pinched his lips, when, forgetful of
the food before him, he sat lost in meditation.

The meal was