Fabiola, on awaking, crept back to her own couch, as she thought, unobserved. A secret, sharp pang it had cost her to perform this act of self-abasement; but she had thoroughly humbled the pride of her heart. She felt for the first time that her heart was Christian. CHAPTER XXXIII. MIRIAM’S HISTORY. The next morning, when Dionysius came, he found both patient and nurse so radiant and so happy, that he congratulated them both on having had a good night’s rest. Both laughed at the idea; but concurred in saying that it had been the happiest night of their lives. Dionysius was surprised, till Miriam, taking the hand of Fabiola, said: “Venerable priest of God, I confide to your fatherly care this catechumen, who desires to be fully instructed in the mysteries of our holy faith, and to be regenerated by the waters of eternal salvation.” “What!” asked Fabiola, amazed, “are you more than a physician?” “I am, my child,” the old man replied; “unworthily I hold likewise the higher office of a priest in God’s Church.” Fabiola unhesitatingly knelt before him, and kissed his hand. The priest placed his right hand upon her head, and said to her: “Be of good courage, daughter; you are not the first of your house whom God has brought into His holy Church. It is now many years since I was called in here, under the guise of a physician, by a former servant, now no more; but in reality it was to baptize, a few hours before her death, the wife of Fabius.” “My mother!” exclaimed Fabiola. “She died immediately after giving me birth. And did she die a Christian?” “Yes; and I doubt not that her spirit has been hovering about you through life by the side of the angel who guards you, guiding you unseen to this blessed hour. And, before the throne of God, she has been unceasing in her supplications on your behalf.” Joy tenfold filled the breasts of the two friends; and after arrangements had been made with Dionysius for the necessary instructions and preparations for Fabiola’s admission to baptism, she went up to the side of Miriam, and taking her hand, said to her in a low, soft voice: “Miriam, may I from henceforth call you sister?” A pressure of the hand was the only reply which she could give. With their mistress, the old nurse, Euphrosyne, and the Greek slave, placed themselves, as we now say, under instruction, to receive baptism on Easter-eve. Nor must we forget one who was already enrolled in the list of catechumens, and whom Fabiola had taken home with her and kept, Emerentiana, the foster-sister of Agnes. It was her delight to make herself useful, by being the ready messenger between the sick-room and the rest of the house. During her illness, as her strength improved, Miriam imparted many particulars of her previous life to Fabiola; and as they will throw some light on our preceding narrative, we will give her history in a continuous form.