elf a set of determined and
malicious enemies. Her Christianity could not be mistaken. There was
no mere form about it, no casual acts of duty, no hysterical nights, no
insipidity, and no compromise,--the gods must go. It was a clear,
steady, every-day light, peeping up in childhood, and burning brighter
and brighter thro' the years. Though a lover of knowledge and fond of
reasoning, she wasted no time in a vain jangle about faith and works,
but illustrated both in her daily life. Encouraged by her parents, and
acting as their medium, and that of other benefactors, she attended to
the wants of a wide circle of sick and poor, both heathen and
Christian. Like her Lord himself, she went about doing good. No one
cheered and comforted the members of the Christian community more, no
one was a greater inspiration, and no one was more unassuming.

On the left bank of the Xanthus stood a large residence belonging to a
man of wealth, a business friend of Pathema's father. In front there
was no altar to Apollo Agyieus, and no statue of any god, the owner
having distinct leanings toward Christianity. All that met the eye was
a Victor's Laurel tree, behind the house, which was much greater in
depth than width, was a garden, containing such trees as pomegranate,
orange, and fig.

To that house Pathema went. Ascending the steps and knocking at the
door, she was met by a porter (with his dog), who led her and Miriam
past his lodge and along the narrow passage to the first peristyle--a
partly open courtyard. Here they awaited the appearance of the
mistress. On all four sides were colonnades, under which were a
banqueting room, a picture gallery, a library, servants' office,
sitting rooms, and several bed-chambers. The visitors had not long to
wait.

"Peace be with you!" said the mistress, with a gracious smile.

"Joy to thee!" was the reply.

Entering a chamber on the right, Pathema was gently conducted to the
bedside of Crito, an invalid boy, his parents' pride and tender care.
Crito had received a good education, and, when well, was active, witty
and intelligent. But he had been hurt internally while wrestling in
the gymnasium with an older lad, and for a time his life hung in the
balance. Several days had elapsed since Pathema saw him, and he was
now fast asleep. She did not speak, but looked on him awhile with
earnest anxious eyes. At length a gleam of hope lit up her face, and
she was about to leave softly wh