“He went to see Leila, and told her about becoming a Christian. ‘Is it the thing to do?’ she asked. ‘Then I will become one, too!’ Dear, sweet, simple soul! He tried to explain, but she understood nothing, until he said that it meant that he would have to part with her. Then she burst into tears, and cast herself at his feet, and cried out, ‘Is it true, then, that you no longer love me?’ “He told her that he loved her more than ever, but in a different way: now he loved her soul. ‘You have a soul, Leila,’ he said, ‘an immortal soul—and it is high time you began to think about saving it, too!’ “‘Stay with me,’ she begged, ‘and explain all these things to me. I think if you are kind to me I can understand you, and learn to save my soul, whatever that means. But do not look at me coldly, for that frightens me.’ “‘After all,’ he thought, ‘she has as much a right to save her soul as I have to save mine. Perhaps I had better break it to her gently. In the course of a few weeks—’ And so he kissed her and stayed to explain. “It was harder than he had realized to become a Christian. His other mistress was angry at him when he proposed to leave her, and said that it was because he preferred that Persian hussy with her silly doll-face! It pained him to have his motives so misconstrued, but why, after all, should he discriminate against this girl? She, too, had a soul. As for the third one, he put off mentioning the subject to her; he was discouraged with the results of his previous efforts, and besides, he felt that women did not understand these things very well. “‘At least,’ he said, ‘I will receive baptism; and these other things will go easier after that.’ “But on the day set for the ceremony, his mother reminded him that it was the day of the festival of Diana, her favourite goddess. It had been his filial custom to escort his mother to the temple, and sprinkle with her a few grains of incense in the fire which burned before the statue of the goddess. He had never believed in the gods and goddesses—no cultivated Roman did—but it had seemed to him a harmless and pretty custom.... Now he endeavoured to explain to his mother why he could not accompany her. Of course the dear old lady could not understand. It seemed to her that her child had fallen under the influence of godless men, and she wept bitterly. ‘To have this happen to me in my old age!’ she wailed. “He could not bear to see his mother cry like that. And it seemed to him that there must be some mistake: how could this new religion of kindness and gentleness and love command him to break his mother’s heart? “He comforted her, and said he would go with her after all, and sent word that the baptism was to be postponed for a while.