perfectly sinless. Now I--I have
committed many follies, but not a sin--a real sin--no, indeed, I have
not; and Thou must know it, for Thou art a God, and knowest the past,
and canst read hearts. And, indeed, I also would fain remain innocent,
and yet how can that be when I cannot help being devoted to Polykarp,
and yet I am another man's wife. But am I indeed the true and lawful
wife of that horrible wretch who sold me to another? He is as far
from my heart--as far as if I had never seen him with these eyes. And
yet--believe me--I wish him no ill, and I will be quite content, if only
I need never go back to him.

"When I was a child, I was afraid of frogs; my brothers and sisters knew
it, and once my brother Licinius laid a large one, that he had caught,
on my bare neck. I started, and shuddered, and screamed out loud, for it
was so hideously cold and damp--I cannot express it. And that is exactly
how I have always felt since those days in Rome whenever Phoebicius
touched me, and yet I dared not scream when he did.

"But Polykarp! oh! would that he were here, and might only grasp my
hand. He said I was his own, and yet I have never encouraged him. But
now! if a danger threatened him or a sorrow, and if by any means I could
save him from it, indeed--indeed--though I never could bear pain well,
and am afraid of death, I would let them nail me to a cross for him, as
Thou wast crucified for us all.

"But then he must know that I had died for him, and if he looked into my
dying eyes with his strange, deep gaze, I would tell him that it is to
him that I owe a love so great that it is a thing altogether different
and higher than any love I have ever before seen. And a feeling that is
so far above all measure of what ordinary mortals experience, it seems
to me, must be divine. Can such love be wrong? I know not; but Thou
knowest, and Thou, whom they name the Good Shepherd, lead Thou us--each
apart from the other, if it be best so for him--but yet, if it be
possible, unite us once more, if it be only for one single hour. If only
he could know that I am not wicked, and that poor Sirona would willingly
belong to him, and to no other, then I would be ready to die. O Thou
good, kind Shepherd, take me too into Thy flock, and guide me."

Thus prayed Sirona, and before her fancy there floated the image of a
lovely and loving youthful form; she had seen the original in the model
for Polykarp's noble work, and she had not forgotten