Through the correspondence of these women with their friends, we have various glimpses of their life, as well as of the changes that came to the group on the Aventine. The heart of Paula was first saddened by the death of her daughter Paulina, who had married a brother of Marcella, and lived a life of great devotion in the world. Perhaps she found a grain of consolation in the fact that Paulina’s large fortune was left to her husband to be distributed among the poor. We have a glowing account of the great funeral at St. Peter’s, where this sorrowing husband scattered the gifts with his own hand to the starving multitude, after turning his wife’s jewels and fine, gold-embroidered robes into plain garments for the naked and needy. Then he went to his desolate home, took the vows of poverty, and put on a monk’s cowl, though he still held his seat in the Senate, where he doubtless felt that he could render the best service. This grief was tempered for Paula by the glad tidings that the little son she had left weeping on the shore had married Læta, a Christian, who, with his approval, consecrated their daughter, a second Paula, to the service of religion. It was the wife who wrote to her for direction as to her child’s education; and we have an interesting letter from St. Jerome giving careful instruction on all points that concern the training of a young maiden. This Paula helped to cheer the last days of her grandmother, and became the third abbess of the convent. Fabiola came once to visit them, and spent two years, entering into all their duties, and brightening the little community with her quick and eager intellect. But she died soon after her return to Rome. They urged Marcella to join them, and sent vivid descriptions of their idyllic life among the hills consecrated by so many sacred memories. “In summer we seek the shade of our trees,” they write; “in autumn the mild weather and pure air invite us to rest on a bed of fallen leaves; in spring, when the fields are painted with flowers, we sing our songs among the birds.” To be sure, they had the hospital work, the menial duties, the prayers, and the penances, but they had, too, long and pleasant hours to study the holy books. Then they were free from the “need of seeing and being seen, of greeting and being greeted, of praising and detracting, hearing and talking, of seeing the crowds of the world.” The monastery and the convent were quite separate, but it is likely that St. Jerome passed many moments in the converse of his friends and helpers, though his instructions were largely given by letter. These pastoral pictures, however, with their dark shadings, did not tempt the Roman lady from her chosen work. With her clear and sane intellect she saw her duty to those among whom she was born.