The funeral procession had seemed like a triumphal march. The bier was borne upon the shoulders of bishops, whilst other bishops carried candles beside it and led the antiphonal singing of the choirs. Beside these dignitaries walked the sweet-faced sisters from the great convent which the dead woman had founded, and barefooted brothers from the no less famous monastery which she had endowed. Strange figures followed in the procession: wild, shaggy hermits who for the first time in years had come out of their caves in the wilderness of Judea, and nuns bound to perpetual self-immolation, whose unnatural pallor told of incessant vigils broken this once only, that they also might have a part in the final honors shown to their beloved and godly benefactor. Aged Jerome was there; the foremost scholar in all Christendom, but now bent and weary with the realization that world-wide fame is but a paltry substitute for the companionship of a faithful friend. Beside him walked the proud bishop John of Jerusalem, not long since the enemy of Paula and Jerome and at bitter strife with the convent of Bethlehem; but now, it seems, a sincere mourner of one before whose pure and devoted spirit even mighty hierarchs must bow in humble reverence. But those whose hearts grieve most sincerely cannot all gain admission to the church. The square before the entrance is crowded with the poor and the sick and the outcast who are waiting patiently until the long ceremony shall end. Then these humble folk will slip into the quiet church at eventide and pray beside the coffin of their beloved friend, while unrestrained tears roll down their haggard faces—tears for her, and them, and Bethlehem. * * * * * It hardly seems seventeen years since the coming of the Lady Paula stirred the quiet life of Bethlehem. All the world knew of the young Roman widow, of noble family and enormous wealth, who had renounced the luxurious life to which she had been accustomed and had aroused the gossip of the capital by her coarse dress and incessant devotions and the menial duties which she performed in her efforts to relieve the condition of the crowded slums of the city. And then the wealthy lady had broken the last ties of her old life, so the rumor ran, and had left Rome forever in order to dwell in holy Bethlehem with her daughter and their friend and teacher, the reverend presbyter Jerome. For a time Paula and her daughter lived quietly in a small rented house, until the completion of a convent which was erected at her expense. A monastery was next built, of which Jerome was made the head, and in connection with this, a hospice for the entertainment of the strangers who in greater and greater numbers came hither to visit the holy places and to study under the famous teacher.