ds in ardent gratitude. Whilst they were still
talking confidentially, another visitor was announced, the deacon
Pelagius. Basil begged permission to withdraw before the cleric
entered; he was in no mood for conversation with deacons; and Silvia
pointed smilingly to the door by which he could retreat.

The hour was still early. Basil passed a day of hopefulness, and his
mood became exultant when, about sunset, a letter was brought to him
from Silvia.

'To-morrow morning, at the third hour,' she wrote, 'certain of our
kinsfolk and friends will assemble in this house to hear the reverend
man Arator read his poem on the Acts of the Holy Apostles. This is an
honour done to us, for only two or three persons have as yet heard
portions of the poem, which will soon be read publicly in the church of
the Holy Petrus ad Vincula. Let me welcome your Amiability among my
guests. After the reading, I shall beg you to be acquainted with one
who may perchance serve you.'

Scarcely had Basil read this, when another missive was put into his
hands. It was from Heliodora, and written, as usual, in Greek
characters.

'To-morrow, after the ninth hour, you are bidden hither. Come if you
choose. If you do not, I shall have forgotten something I have learnt.'

To this he paid little heed; it might have significance, it might have
none. If the morning sustained his hope, he would be able to resist the
temptation of the afternoon. So he cherished Silvia's letter, and flung
Heliodora's contemptuously aside.

Reaching Gordian's house next morning a little before the appointed
hour, he found the members of the family and one or two guests
assembled in a circular room, with a dome pierced to admit light:
marble seats, covered with cushions, rose amphitheatre-wise on one half
of the circle, and opposite was a chair for the reader. In this hall
Sidonius Apollinaris had declaimed his panegyric on the Emperor Avitus;
here the noble Boethius had been heard, and, in earlier days, the poet
Claudian. Beside Silvia stood her husband's two sisters, Tarsilla and
Aemiliana, both of whom, it had begun to be rumoured, though still in
the flower of their youth, desired to enter the monastic life. At the
younger, who was beautiful, Basil glanced diffidently, remembering that
she might have been his wife; but Aemiliana knew nothing of the thought
her brother had entertained, and her eyes were calm as those of a
little child. When other guests appeared, Basil dr