turn from me when I tell you of the deed that mine has done."

"I know it," she said firmly. "And it was a hard task even for you--a
painful duty--was it not?"

"Terrible! horrible!" he exclaimed with a shudder, as he recalled the
feelings of that momentous instant. She looked sympathetically into his
eyes.

"And you did it," she cried, "because you felt that you must and will be
wholly what you profess to be? It is right--the only right; I feel it
so. I will try to imitate you, and rise above the half-heartedness which
is the bane of existence, and which makes the firm path of life a
trembling, swaying bridge. I am yours, wholly yours; I have none other
gods but yours, and for love of you I will learn to love your God--for
you have often and often called him a God of Love."

"And He is a God of Love!" cried Constantine, "and you will know him and
confess him even without teaching; for our Saviour lives in every heart
that is filled with love. Oh! Gorgo, I have destroyed that beautiful
idol, but I will let you see that even a Christian can duly value and
cherish beauty in his home and in his heart."

"I am sure of it," she exclaimed joyfully. "The world goes on its way
and does not quake, in spite of the fall of Serapis; but I feel as though
in my inmost soul a world had perished and a new one was created, nobler
and purer, and perhaps even more lovely than the old one!"

He pressed her hand to his lips; she signed to him to follow her and led
the way to her father's couch. Porphyrius was sitting up, supported in