“Are you very tired, my dear?”

“Oh, no! no!” said Agnes,—­“I am so happy, so blessed to be here!”

“You have travelled a long way?”

“Yes, from Sorrento; but I am used to walking,—­I did not feel it to be long,—­my heart kept me up,—­I wanted to come home so much.”

“Home?” said the Princess.

“Yes, to my soul’s home,—­the house of our dear Father the Pope.”

The Princess started, and looked incredulously down for a moment; then noticing the confiding, whole-hearted air of the child, she sighed and was silent.

“Come with me above,” she said, “and let me attend a little to your comfort.”

“How good you are, dear lady!” said Agnes.

“I am not good, my child,—­I am only your unworthy sister in Christ”; and as the lady spoke, she opened the door into a room where were a number of other female pilgrims seated around the wall, each attended by a person whose peculiar care she seemed to be.

At the feet of each was a vessel of water, and when the seats were all full, a cardinal in robes of office entered, and began reading prayers.  Each lady present, kneeling at the feet of her chosen pilgrim, divested them carefully of their worn and travel-soiled shoes and stockings, and proceeded to wash them.  It was not a mere rose-water ceremony, but a good hearty washing of feet that for the most part had great need of the ablution.  While this service was going on, the cardinal read from the Gospel how a Greater than they all had washed the feet of His disciples, and said, “If I, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet, ye also ought to wash one another’s feet.”  Then all repeated in concert the Lord’s Prayer, while each humbly kissed the feet she had washed, and proceeded to replace the worn and travel-soiled shoes and stockings with new and strong ones, the gift of Christian love.  Each lady then led her charge into a room where tables were spread with a plain and wholesome repast of all such articles of food as the season of Lent allowed.  Each placed her protegee at table, and carefully attended to all her wants at the supper, and afterwards dormitories were opened for their repose.

The Princess Paulina performed all these offices for Agnes with a tender earnestness which won upon her heart.  The young girl thought herself indeed in that blessed society of which she had dreamed, where the high-born and the rich become through Christ’s love the servants of the poor and lowly,—­and through all the services she sat in a sort of dream of rapture.  How lovely this reception into the Holy City! how sweet thus to be taken to the arms of the great Christian family, bound together in the charity which is the bond of perfectness!

“Please tell me, dear lady,” said Agnes, after supper, “who is that holy man that prayed with us?”

“Oh, he—­he is the Cardinal Capello,” said the Princess.

“I should like to have spoken with him,” said Agnes.