manner and with worthier ceremonial than the great and good Mukaukas George, who had made such a magnificent gift to the Church.  Oh those Jacobites!  They only were capable of such ingratitude, only their heretical prelate could commit such a crime.  Every one in the Convent of St. Cecilia, from the abbess down to the youngest novice, knew that the Patriarch had sent word by a carrier pigeon forbidding the Bishop to allow the priests to take part in the ceremony.  Plotinus was a worthy man, and he had been highly indignant at these instructions; it was not in his power to contravene them; but at any rate he had led the procession in person, and had not forbidden John’s accompanying him.  Orion, however, had not looked as though he meant to brook such an insult to his father or let it pass unpunished.  And whose arm was long enough to reach the Patriarch’s throne if not....  But no, it was impossible! the mere thought of such a thing made her blood run cold.  Still, still...  And how graciously the Moslem leader had talked with him!—­Merciful Heaven!  If he were to turn apostate from the holy Christian faith, like so many reprobate Egyptians, and subscribe to the wicked doctrines of the Arabian false prophet!  It was a tempting creed for shameless men, allowing them to have half a dozen wives or more without regarding it as a sin.  A man like Orion could afford to keep them, of course; for the abbess had said that every one knew that the great Mukaukas was a very rich man, though even the chief magistrate of the city could not fully satisfy himself concerning the enormous amount of property left.  Well, well; God’s ways were past finding out.  Why should He smother one under heaps of gold, while He gave thousands of poor creatures too little to satisfy their hunger!

By the end of this torrent of words the two women had reached the house; and not till then was Paula clear in her own mind:  Away, away with the passion which still strove for the mastery, whether it were in deed hatred or love!  For she felt that she could not rightly enjoy her recovered freedom, her new and quiet happiness in the pretty home she owed to the physician’s thoughtful care, till she had finally given up Orion and broken the last tie that had bound her to his house.

Could she desire anything more than what the present had to offer her?  She had found a true haven of rest where she lacked for nothing that she could desire for herself after listening to the admonitions of Philip pus.  Round her were good souls who felt with and for her, many occupations for which she was well-fitted, and which suited her tastes, with ample opportunities of bestowing and winning love.  Then, a few steps through pleasant shades took her to the convent where she could every day attend divine service among pious companions of her own creed, as she had done in her childhood.  She had longed intensely for such food for the spirit, and the abbess—­who was the widow of a distinguished patrician of Constantinople and had known Paula’s parents—­could supply it in abundance.  How gladly she talked to the girl of the goodness and the beauty of those to whom she owed her being and whom she had so early lost!  She could pour out to this motherly soul all that weighed on her own, and was received by her as a beloved daughter of her old age.