bearing which became her birth; a woman who would have had much
grace, much charm, but for the passion which, turned to vehement
self-will, had made her blood acrid. Her great dark eyes burned with
quenchless resentment; her sunken and pallid face told of the
sufferings of a tortured pride.

'Lord Maximus,' were her first words, as she stood holding by the
litter, glancing distrustfully about her, 'you have sworn!'

'Hear me repeat my oath,' answered the father, strengthened by his
emotion to move forward from the couch. 'By the blessed martyr
Pancratius, I swear that no harm shall befall you, no constraint
shall be put upon you, that you shall be free to come and to go as
you will.'

It was the oath no perjurer durst make. Aurelia gazed into her
father's face, which was wet with tears. She stepped nearer to him,
took his thin, hot hand, and, as in her childhood, bent to kiss the
back of the wrist. But Maximus folded her to his heart.






CHAPTER II

BASIL'S VISION