etook himself to the
women's rooms where Mary, after superintending the spinning and other
work of the slave-girls, in the rooms at the back, was wont to sit during
the evening. He found his mother in eager conversation with a Christian
priest of advanced age, an imposing personage of gentle and dignified
aspect. The widow, though past forty, might still pass for a handsome
woman: it was from her that her son had inherited his tall, thin figure
with narrow shoulders and a slight stoop, his finely-cut features, white
skin and soft, flowing, raven-black hair. Their resemblance was rendered
all the more striking by the fact that each wore a simple, narrow circlet
of gold-round the head; nay it would have seemed some unusual trick of
Nature's but that their eyes were quite unlike. Hers were black, and
their gaze was shrewd and sharp and sometimes sternly hard; while the
dreamy lustre of her son's, which were blue, lent his face an almost
feminine softness.

She must have been discussing some grave questions with the old man, for,
as the young man entered the room, she colored slightly and her long,
taper fingers impatiently tapped the back of the couch on which she was
lounging.

Marcus kissed first the priest's hand and then his mother's, and, after
enquiring with filial anxiety after her health, informed her that
Demetrius would presently be coming to take leave of her.

"How condescending?" she said coldly. "You know reverend Father what it
is that I require of him and that he refuses. His peasants--always his
peasants! Now can you tell me why they, who must feel the influence and
power of their masters so much more directly than the lower class in
towns, they, whose weal or woe so obviously depends on the will of the
Most High, are so obstinately set against the Gospel of Salvation?"

"They cling to what they are used to," replied the old man. "The seed
they sow bore fruit under the old gods; and as they cannot see nor handle
our Heavenly Father as they can their idols, and at the same time have
nothing better to hope for than a tenth or a twentieth of the grain. . ."

"Yes, mine and thine--the miserable profit of this world!" sighed the
widow. "Oh! Demetrius can defend the idolatry of his favorites warmly
enough, never fear. If you can spare the time, good Father, stay and help
me to convince him."

"I have already stayed too long," replied the priest, "for the Bishop has
commanded my presence. I should like to s