absolutely destitute they were; but Hannah's questions soon brought the
truth to light; and when Arsinoe perceived that the widow understood the
misfortunes of their house in their fullest extent, and that it would be
unavailing to conceal how matters stood with her and the children, she
yielded to the growing impulse to relieve her soul by pouring out her
griefs and described frankly and without reserve the whole position of
the family, to the good woman who listened with attention and sympathy.
The widow asked about each child separately, and ended by enquiring who,
in Arsinoe's absence, was left in charge of the little ones; and when she
heard that the old slave-woman to whose care the children were entrusted,
was infirm and half-blind, she shook her head thoughtfully.

"Here help is needed and at once," she said decidedly. "You must go back
to the little ones presently. Your sister must not at present hear of
your father's death; when your future lot is to some extent secure we
will tell her by degrees all that has occurred. Now come with me, it is
by the Lord's guidance that you came here at the right moment."

Hannah conducted Arsinoe to Paulina's villa, first into a small room at
the side of the entrance hall, where the deaconesses took off their veils
and their warm wraps in winter evenings. There the girl could be alone,
and safe from inquisitive questionings which could not fail to be painful
to her. Hannah desired her to await her return, and then joined her
colleagues.

In order to do so she had to pass through the room where the elders and
deacons were sitting in council. The bishop, who presided over the
assembly, sat on a raised seat at the head of an oblong table, and on his
right hand and his left sat a number of elderly men, some of whom seemed
to be of Jewish or Egyptian extraction but most of them were Greeks. In