“‘Give her to me,’ he exclaimed. ‘Give me the right to protect her from all insult henceforth.’ And so it was settled. And my dear father made preparations for our marriage, and we live with him in such happiness as I can never tell. “It cannot but happen that living as I do with such scholars as my father and my husband, I should become well versed in the literature of the schools. I love to hear those who are so full of learning discourse. We have a large house now, and many frequent it. I am the mistress of it, and I have to fulfil its duties. Ah, Hermione! why am I so blessed by God? What have I done to merit His goodness, thus shown to me? It makes me sad at times, to think of you, in your dark, dim, shadowy life, in the old Vestals’ House. That is not real life, Hermione, cut off from all the sweet home ties which bind a happy wife with silken fetters. “I pray you to send me a letter, and tell me if _she_ is less arrogant and hard to you, and if the faith of our Lord, yet unconfessed, is growing clearer to you. I crave to hear it is so. And now, fare you well. I would fain greet you with a kiss. Think of me as your friend, the happy wife of Heraclitus, and daughter of Casca Severus.” CHAPTER XVII. TRIUMPH. Hermione did not live long after the reception of this letter. She kissed it many times, and kept it safe in the breast of her robe, never allowing any eye to read it, never telling its contents to any mortal ear. Sometimes a smile would flit over her sad face as she pictured the bright and happy Cynthia--the child grown into the woman, the loved and loving wife of a brave, good man. Hermione had to suffer much, and the few lines she traced before her death, addressed to Cynthia, did not reach Alexandria till long afterwards. But they breathed of hope in the lovingkindness of the Redeemer of the world, and told of the humble assurance, that, like as a father pities, He had pitied her, and would of His mercy receive her to the home of the blest in heaven. Hermione’s death was felt to be a relief by the Vestal Maxima, Cœlia Concordia, who now held undisputed sway in the Vestals’ House. As we know, she loved the power the office gave her. When Hermione passed away, a gleam of triumph might be seen to glance from those dark eagle-like eyes; for another obstacle was removed from her path, and the accomplishment of a long cherished scheme became easier. The priests, who had decreed that her predecessor’s memory should be crystallised for future generations by the laudatory lines engraved on the pedestal on which her statue was raised, were all in their turn consigned to the sacred Pomœrium, and their names were soon forgotten. It did not deeply affect the friend of the great Prætextatus to see the old and the feeble pass away. She was known and admired in the highest circles of the time at Rome; but love never seemed to come near her or soften her proud heart. * * * * *