ity was less prominent than his services as a most
capable steward of the patrimony of St. Peter. He travelled much, had
an extensive correspondence, and was probably rather respected than
reverenced by most lay folk with whom he came in contact.

But in the eyes of the lady Petronilla, Leander was an ideal churchman.
No one treated her judgment with so much respect; no one confided to
her curious ear so many confidential matters, ranging from the secret
scandals of aristocratic Rome to high debates of ecclesiastical
polity--or what Petronilla regarded as such. Their closer acquaintance
began with the lady's presentation of certain columns of tawny Numidian
marble, from a ruined temple she had inherited, to the deacon's
basilica, St. Laurentius; and many were the donations which Leander had
since accepted from her on behalf of the Church. In return, he had once
or twice rejoiced her with the gift of a precious relic, such as came
into the hands of few below royal rank; thus had Petronilla obtained
the filings of the chain of St. Peter, which, enclosed in a golden key,
hung upon her bosom. Some day, as the deacon well knew, this pious
virgin would beg him to relieve her of all her earthly possessions, and
enter into some holy retreat; but she awaited the death of her brother,
by whose will she would doubtless benefit more or less substantially.

If in view of the illness of Maximus, Petronilla had regarded the
deacon's visit as providential, the event of yesterday moved her to a
more agitated thankfulness for the conference she was about to enjoy.
After a night made sleepless by dread and wrath, she rose at daybreak
and passed in a fever of impatience the time which elapsed before her
reverend guest issued from his chamber. This being the fourth day of
the week, Petronilla held rigid fast until the hour of nones; and of
course no refreshment was offered to the churchman, who, with that
smiling placidity, that graceful self-possession, which ever
distinguished him in such society, at length entered the inner hall,
and suavely, almost tenderly, greeted his noble hostess. Brimming over
as she was with anxiety and indignation, Petronilla allowed nothing of
this to appear in her reception of the revered friend. To his inquiries
touching the health of the Senator, she replied with significant
gravity that Maximus had suffered during the night, and was this
morning, by the physician's report, much weaker; she added not a word