ou will
gladly join in the pathetic appeal to the sublime god to return. How
like he is to your Lord! Is he not, like your Christ, a Saviour, and
risen from the dead? The Temple or the Church--both are the sanctuaries
of the Deity. By the ivy-wreathed altar of the weeping goddess, at the
foot of the tall cypresses which cast their mysterious shadows on the
snowy whiteness of the marble steps on which lies the bier of the god,
you will feel the sacred awe which falls upon every pure soul when it is
conscious of the presence of the Deity--call Him what you will.

"Isis, whom you now know, and who is neither more nor less than a
personification of divine mercy, will make you a return by restoring you
to the freedom for which you pine. She will allow you to find a home in
some Christian house through our intervention, in acknowledgment of the
pious service you are rendering, not to her but to the faith in divine
goodness. There you may live with your little brother, as free as
heart can desire. To-morrow you will go with Gorgo to the temple of the
goddess ..."

But Agne broke in on his speech: "No, I will not go with her!"

Her cheeks were scarlet and her breath came short and fast with
excitement as she went on:

"I will not, I must not, I cannot! Do what you will with me: sell me and
my brother, put us to turn a mill--but I will not sing in the temple!"

Olympius knit his brows; his beard quivered and his lips parted in
wrath, but he controlled himself and going close to the girl he laid
his hand on her shoulder and said in a deep grave tone of fatherly
admonition:

"Reflect, child, pause; think over what I have been saying to you;
remember, too, what you owe the little one you love, and to-morrow
morning tell us that you have duly weighed your answer. Give me your
hand, my daughter; believe me, Olympius is one of your sincerest
well-wishers."

He turned his back on her and was going in doors. In front of the house
Porphyrius and Karnis were standing in eager colloquy. The news that
Marcus' mother Mary had sent for Herse had reached the singer, and
his vivid fancy painted his wife as surrounded by a thousand perils,
threatened by the widow, and carried before the judges. The merchant
advised him to wait and see what came of it, as did Damia and Gorgo
who were attracted to the spot by the vehemence of the discussion; but
Karnis would not be detained, and he and Orpheus hurried off to the
rescue. Thus Agne was left