reflection.

'This villa shall be yours.'

An exultant gleam shone in Aurelia's eyes.

'Deacon,' she said sternly, 'your promise is not enough. Swear to me
that no one living, save my father and you, shall know.'

From his bosom Leander drew forth a little golden cross.

'This,' he said reverently, 'contains dust of iron from the bars on
which the blessed Laurentius suffered martyrdom.'

'Swear also,' demanded Aurelia, 'by the Holy Pancratius.' In the
name of both saints Leander took his oath of secrecy. Petronilla was
of course aware that the deacon had been admitted to audience by her
niece. When he descended, she awaited him at the end of the portico,
and her look questioned him.

'Stubborn, stubborn!' murmured Leander, shaking his head, and passed
on as though in troubled thought.

Later in the day, when she had seen her father, Aurelia made known
to her cousin Basil, who had requested an interview, that he might
come. His cousin received him smilingly, almost affectionately.

Marcian having this morning taken his leave, called away by some
unexplained business to Neapolis, Basil had been on the point of
taking Decius into his amorous confidence, when this summons