myself—a day of separation, and therefore a dreadful day to you. Let us be brave and serious. I will be your hero, but you must put me in the way. You know the law-every son of Israel must have some occupation. I am not exempt, and ask now, shall I tend the herds? or till the soil? or drive the saw? or be a clerk or a lawyer? What shall I be? Dear, good mother, help me to an answer."
"Gamaliel has been lecturing to-day," she said, thoughtfully.
"If so, I did not hear him."
"Then you have been walking with Simeon, who, they tell me, inherits the genius of his family."
"No, I have not seen him. I have been up on the Market-place, not to the Temple. I visited the young Messala."
A certain change in his voice attracted the mother's attention. A presentiment quickened the beating of her heart; the fan became motionless again.
"The Messala!" she said. "What could he say to so trouble you?"
"He is very much changed."
"You mean he has come back a Roman."
"Roman!" she continued, half to herself. "To all the world the word means master. How long has he been away?"
She raised her head, and looked off into the night.
"The airs of the Via Sacra are well enough in the streets of the Egyptian and in Babylon; but in Jerusalem—our Jerusalem—the covenant abides."
And, full of the thought, she settled back into her easy place. He was first to speak.
"What Messala said, my mother, was sharp enough in itself; but, taken with the manner, some of the sayings were intolerable."
"I think I understand you. Rome, her poets, orators, senators, courtiers, are mad with affectation of what they call satire."
"I suppose all great peoples are proud," he went on, scarcely noticing the interruption; "but the pride of that