“And the angel answered and said unto her, The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee: therefore also that Holy Thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.”
“Hold! hold!” cried Rizpah. “What is this? the faith of the Nazarene?”
Miriamne was awed. She feared she had proceeded too far; but quickly remembering an explanation of Father Adolphus, replied: “Be content, mother, I read but that that appears in our holy prophets, Isaiah, the poetic and vehement; his words you so much prize have here an echo.”
Rizpah gazed at her daughter, with a puzzled, questioning expression for a moment, and then sententiously said, “Read on.” She was alert, though severe. Her curiosity was ruling, but her prudence was conserved, at least in her own mind. The daughter was anxious, but could not retreat; she knew she must read further or make a futile effort to explain her reluctance. The two were a study; each afraid of the other: each anxious to aid the other to truth; both on guard, and, while professing to be all love for each other, attempting to move forward to a fuller fellowship by indirection. The outlines of the cross were appearing in that household, and never was there to be complete accord until there it ruled all hearts.
Miriamne continued to read, but confined herself chiefly to notes made by the old priest on the margin of her manuscript.
“Presently Joseph, the affianced husband of Mary, discovered that his beloved was to become a mother. At first the discovery was like a dagger in his heart, for as yet the marriage had not been consummated. It was a crisis of great import and trial to husband and wife. Joseph, though now a plain man and a mechanic, carried in his veins the noblest blood of his race, being descendant of the ancient kings and in the line of Solomon and David. Besides that, he had all the abhorrence of the better Jews for adultery, that their awful law of death as its penalty, implied.”
“Did he help the mob to stone her?” cried Rizpah.
Miriamne was startled by her mother’s angry earnestness.
“Oh! we’ll see.”