Cornelius stepped on a bench, and looking about the assembly called out, “Is there any objection on the part of any to the course which Quintius Fabius proposes?”
After waiting a moment for responses that did not come, the president proceeded, “Let every one who regards the examination as already sufficient, and would at once admit the candidate to full membership in our body, stretch forth his hand.”
And such a showing of hands! They flew out and up as if from a catapult. Some voted with two hands. Some, not content with a simple uplifting, made their hands shake and triumph in the air. Even the Best voted with the rest.
“Your mind is clear,” cried the president. “By your vote, and without dissent, this gentleman is now a member in full of this university. In your name” (as he advanced toward Aleph with outstretched hand) “I, Publius Cornelius, offer greetings and fellowship to”—and he hesitated.
“Aleph the Chaldean,” said Aleph, as he gracefully took the proffered hand.
Seti remained sitting for a while longer, keenly watching, as many of the young men gathered about Aleph and were introduced to him by Cornelius. Among these were the Best; who were at first somewhat backward and awkward, but whom Aleph so welcomed with frank and unpretending cordiality that they were soon quite at ease. Seti watched and admired. He saw that the young man had quite won those who might easily have become his enemies—in short had fairly conquered the position he had coveted for him.
Aleph lingered till the other students had left that he might inquire of Seti whether he had heard from Miriam that morning. He had not; but was not sure but that he might hear something by going to his rooms. Would not Aleph and his friend accompany him?
As they approached the apartments of the high-priest they saw before them in the distance what seemed the fluttering of female robes: and, as soon as Seti had opened his door, he found himself in the arms of his granddaughter.
“Mother-father” (this was her favorite style of address), she exclaimed, looking up fondly into his face, “are you not very tired after such a long session? But what a good lecture that was, and then....”
“Ah, child,” he hastily interrupted as he patted her cheek, “what a flatterer you are! Why not begin to practice on my lecture by telling me the truth? Tired! Antiquity is never tired. The tired ones are your moderns—such young men as you may see behind me.”