and when, in the afternoon, the Nabathaean
messenger came to them, and told them from their captive friend that he
had brought her father home to her, the women once more began to hope,
and Mary could allow herself to give free expression to her fond love
before she quitted them, without exciting their suspicions.

At length she said she must go to her lessons with Eudoxia; she had a
hard task before her and they must think of her and wish her good
success. She threw her arms first round the widow's neck and then round
Pulcheria's; and, as the tears would start to her eyes, she asked them if
she were not indeed a silly childish thing--but they were to think of her
all the same and never to forget her.

She met the governess in her own room; Eudoxia cut off the fine, soft
curls, shedding her first tears over them; and those tears flowed faster
as she placed round Mary's neck a little reliquary containing a lock from
the sheep-skin of St. John the Baptist, which had belonged to her own
mother. It was very dear and sacred to her, and she had never before
parted from it, but now it was to protect the child and bring her
happiness--great happiness.

Had it brought her such happiness?--Not much, in truth; and yet she
believed in the saving and beneficent influence of the relic.

At last Mary stood before her with short hair and in a boy's dress; and
what a sweet and lovely little fellow it was; Eudoxia could not weary of
looking at him. But Mary was too pretty, too frail for a boy; and Eudoxia
advised her to pull her broad travelling hat low over her eyes as soon as
she came in sight of men, or else to darken her color.

Gamaliel, who had in fact come to warn Dame Joanna against Horapollo, had
kept them informed of the progress of this day's sitting, and Paula's
conduct to save her lover had increased Mary's admiration for her. When
she should confront Amru she could answer him on every head, so she felt
equipped at all points as she stole through the garden with Eudoxia, and
down to the quay.

When she had passed the gateway she once more kissed her hand to the
house she loved and its inmates; then, pointing with a sigh to the
neighboring garden, she said:

"Poor Katharina! she is a prisoner now.--Do you know, Eudoxia, I am still
very fond of her, and when I think that she may take the plague, and die
but no!--Tell Mother Joanna and Pulcheria to be kind to her. To-morrow,
after breakfast, give them my letter; and thi