e
of the child to the breast of Mary. Looking about with a glance of
apprehension lest she should be discovered in some unworthy act, she
hastily moved the infant from her arm and the nestlings from her veil
which she gathered over her shoulders and bosom. The birds she tied in
a loose end of the veil and hid in the front of her garment. Meantime
the baby was crying lustily and making feeble and aimless motions of
protest or desire with its tiny brown fingers. Mary was trying to
quiet it by walking when the Bedouin woman returned with the goat.

The sun was shining high and the roads were peopled with pilgrims as
she made her way back to Bethany with her nestlings and narcissus. But
the way did not seem long, for out of her visit to the valley of lilies
had come a new mystery for her mind to dwell upon--the eternal mystery
of motherhood awakening. "Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings
shall come wisdom." The words of one of the Rabbis kept coming to her.
But what was the wisdom? Her only impression at the time was the
strange suggestion that because both nestlings and Bedouin babe had
mistaken her for their mother, they must be brothers. When Mary
reached home she found Martha and her guests in a state of pleased
excitement. News had just been brought by Lazarus that Zador Ben Amon
had arrived in Jerusalem after a long journey in far lands, and would
sup with them the day following. Especially had he sent his respects
to Mary.

"Thou canst feed him, and Lazarus entertain him with his merry
speech-making," Mary observed quietly as she took the nestlings from
her veil.

"And what wilt thou do for thy distinguished guest?" Anna asked of Mary.

"I will watch with great care these little nightingales so that they
may live in the thicket by the spring just over the garden wall. And
next year when Zador Ben Amon doth pass with his camel train from
Damascus will their sweet song welcome him home."

"No greater guest doth come to the Passover than Zador Ben Amon--and he
hath an interest in thee, Mary."

"Yea--a greater than he hath come to the Passover," said Anna. "From
Rome hath Pilate come, so sayeth my father, and with a retinue of
servants that doth make Herod green with envy. And speech hath it that
the wife of Pilate doth dazzle the eye with such gorgeous apparel as is
seen only in the Roman circus."

"Glad is my heart," said Martha, "that Herod be undone in the glory of
display for apeth he not