Paulina seemed to feel that she was the hostess to her brethren. She
looked ill and suffering; a line of pain had settled about her lips, and
there were always dark shades under her eyes; still, there was something
firm and decisive in her voice, and her glance was anything rather than
soft and winning. After her commanding tones Hannah's tale sounded as
soft as a song. She described the different natures of the two sisters
as lovingly as though they were her own daughters, each in her own way
seemed to her so worthy of compassion, and she spoke with pathetic lament
of the unprotected, helpless orphans abandoned to misery, and among them
a pretty little blind boy. And she ended her speech by saying:

"The steward's second daughter--she is sixteen and so beautiful that she
must be exposed to every temptation--has now the whole charge of the
nourishment and care of her six young brothers and sisters. Ought we to
withhold from them a protecting hand? No, so surely as we love the
Saviour we ought not. You agree with me? Well then, do not let us delay
our help. The second daughter of the deceased Keraunus is here, in this
house; to-morrow early the children must all quit the palace, and now,
while I am speaking, are at home alone and but ill tended."

The Christian woman's good words fell on kindly soil, and the presbyters
and deacons determined to recommend the congregation who should assemble
at the love-feast to give their assistance to the steward's children.

The elders had still much to discuss, so Hannah and Paulina were charged
with the task of appealing to the hearts of the well-to-do members of the
congregation to provide for the orphans. The poor widow first conducted
her wealthy friend and hostess to the little room where Arsinoe was
waiting with growing impatience. She looked paler than usual but, in
spite of her tear-reddened eyes which she kept fixed on the ground, she