“Yes, I know the pretty child.”

“Yes, she is lovely to look upon,” said the widow.  “But her heart and mind have been left wholly untrained, and in her the doctrine falls upon stony ground, for she avails herself of every unoccupied moment to stare at the horsemen and chariots that pass on the way to the Hippodrome.  By this inquisitive gaping she fills her head with a thousand useless and distracting fancies; I am not always at home, and so it will be best to have the pernicious window walled up.”

“And did you send for me only to have that done?” cried Pontius, much annoyed.  “Your house-slaves, I should think, might have been equal to that without my assistance.”

“Perhaps, but then the wall would have to be freshly whitewashed—­I know how obliging you always are.”  Thank you very much.  To-morrow I will send you two regular workmen.”

“Nay, to-day, at once if possible.”

“Are you in such pressing haste to spoil the poor child’s amusement?  And besides I cannot but think that it is not to stare at the horsemen and chariots that she looks out, but to see her worthy lover.”

“So much the worse.  I was telling you, Eumenes, that a sculptor wants to marry her.”

“She is a heathen,” replied the bishop.

“But on the road to salvation,” answered Paulina.  “But we will speak of that presently.  There is still something else to discuss, Pontius.  The hall of my country villa must be enlarged.”

“Then send me the plans.”

“They are in the book-room of my late husband.”  The architect left his sister to go into the library, which he knew well.

As soon as the bishop was left alone with Paulina, he shook his head and said: 

“If I judge rightly, my dear sister, you are going the wrong way to work in leading this child intrusted to your care.  Not all are called, and rebellious hearts must be led along the path of salvation with a gentle hand, not dragged and driven.  Why do you cut off this girl, who still stands with both feet in the world, from all that can give her pleasure?  Allow the young creature to enjoy every permitted pleasure which can add to the joys of life in youth.  Do not hurt Arsinoe needlessly, do not let her feel the hand that guides her.  First teach her to love you from her heart, and when she knows nothing dearer than you, a request from you will be worth more than bolts or walled-up windows.”

“At first I wished nothing more than that she should love me,” interrupted Paulina.

“But have you proved her?  Do you see in her the spark which may be fanned to a flame?  Have you detected in her the germ which may possibly grow to a strong desire for salvation and to devotion to the Redeemer?”

“That germ exists in every heart-these are your own words.”

“But in many of the heathen it is deeply buried in sand and stories; and do you feel yourself equal to clearing them away without injury to the seed or to the soil in which it lies?”