e took
two. If two did not suffice, he took three."

"And if three were not enough," Martha observed, laughing, "he took a
score."

"Yea, a score. Then thinkest thou our fathers had naught to do but
make great processions?"

"Much I like the procession, the veil, the flowers, the sweetmeats and
all this that maketh marriage."

"But all this maketh not the marriage, Martha. Naught but love hath
power to make the marriage."

"Ever thou maketh much of love, Mary."

"The blessing of the priest can not take the place of it when a man and
a woman unite to abide under one roof."

"Maybe so," Martha assented, going back to the chest, "but see thou my
girdle of jewels from the Far East. Come thou and look once again at
my goodly store. A long time have I been getting my chest filled
against the day I am the bride of Joel."

"And an outfit thou hast worthy an Asmonean princess, while my chest
hath little in it save my alabaster vase of very precious perfume."

"Fragrant will it make thy wedding veil."

"For this hope I treasure it. And yet--"

The words were stayed by a knocking at the door and the voice of
Lazarus shouting in excitement, "Mary! Mary! Open to me the door. I
have great news!"

"Yea--yea, we open," Mary answered. "Even the tomb door doth open to
thee, my brother."

"Aye, but I have great news--great news!" he exclaimed as he crossed
the threshold.

"But thou bearest a sword," Mary said, drawing back. "A sword! What
of this sword?"

"Yea, what of the sword?" Martha repeated. "And what is the news?"

"Israel hath a King!" The words were shouted rather than spoken and
the hand of Lazarus trembled with excitement against the hilt of the
sword he carried.

"Israel hath a King? What meanest thou?" and the tone of Mary's voice
showed that she had caught the spirit of excitement from her brother.

"Is the throne of David to be established?" and Martha tucked her
jeweled girdle hastily into the chest as she asked the question.

"It is even so, Mary--Martha--and him whom we love hath been acclaimed
King of the Jews!"

"Dost thou mean Jesus--_our_ Jesus?" and Mary lay hold of her brother's
sleeve with tight fingers.

"Jesus? The Galilean Rabbi that doth abide under _our_ roof?" and
Martha came hastily to the side of Lazarus.

"Yea--yea, verily. It is even this same Jesus!"

"My brother," and Mary stepped in front of him and looked into his
eager smiling face, "what strange thin