"Her old father hastened to her side with the baby, and laid it in her arms. 'Will you leave your infant motherless?' he asked, 'and bring your old father's hairs in sorrow to the grave?' "'Have pity on the child!' cried the bystanders. 'Have pity on your father!' "Perpetua clasped her baby to her breast, and her eyes filled with tears. They thought she had yielded, and brought her the incense. "'Just one little grain on the brazier,' they said, 'and you are free-for the child's sake and your old father's.' "She pushed it from her. 'I am a Christian,' she said. 'God will keep my child.' "She was condemned with her companions to be thrown to the wild beasts in the amphitheatre, and they were taken away and cast into a dark dungeon. Every day they were tempted with promises of freedom to renounce the Truth. The little babe of Felicitas was born in the prison where they lay awaiting death. A Christian woman took the infant to bring it up in the Faith. The young mother never saw the face of her child in this world. One word, one little motion of the hand, and they were free, restored again to their happy life of old and the homes that were so dear. There were many, alas! in those cruel days who had not courage for the fight, who sacrificed, and went their way. Not so these weak women. "Once again they brought Perpetua her little child to try to shake her constancy. 'The prison was like a palace,' she said, while its little downy head lay on her breast. Her father wept, and even struck her in his grief and anger. 'I am a Christian,' she said, and gave him back the babe. "They were thrown to the wild beasts. Felicitas and Perpetua, who had been tossed by a wild cow, though horribly gored, were still alive. Gladiators were summoned to behead them. Felicitas died at the first stroke, but the man's hand trembled, and he struck at Perpetua again and again, wounding her, but not mortally. 'You are more afraid than I,' she said gently, and taking the point of the sword held it to her throat. "'Strike now,' she said, and so passed into the presence of her God." Monica drew a long breath. "So weak and yet so strong," she said. "So it is, my child," said the old woman. "It is those who are strong and true in the little things of life who are strong and true in the great trials." "It is hard to be always strong and true," said the girl. "Not if God's love comes always first," answered the old woman.