It was at this moment that Agnes came for her appointed interview, and Fabiola insisted on accompanying her to the door. But when Agnes softly raised the curtain, and caught a sight of the scene before her, she beckoned to Fabiola to look in, enjoining silence by her gesture. The blind girl was opposite, and her voluntary servant on one side, unconscious of witnesses. The heart of Fabiola was touched; she had never imagined that there was such a thing as disinterested love on earth between strangers; as to charity, it was a word unknown to Greece or Rome. She retreated quietly, with a tear in her eye, and said to Agnes, as she took leave:
“I must retire; that girl, as you know, proved to me this afternoon that a slave may have a head; she has now shown me that she may have a heart. I was amazed, when, a few hours ago, you asked me if I did not love a slave. I think, now, I could almost love Syra. I half regret that I have agreed to part with her.”
As she went back into the court, Agnes entered the room, and laughing, said:
“So, Cæcilia, I have found out your secret at last. This is the friend whose food you have always said was so much better than mine, that you would never eat at my house. Well, if the dinner is not better, at any rate I agree that you have fallen in with a better hostess.”
“Oh, don’t say so, sweet Lady Agnes,” answered the blind girl: “it is the dinner indeed that is better. You have plenty of opportunities for exercising charity; but a poor slave can only do so by finding some one still poorer, and helpless, like me. That thought makes her food by far the sweetest.”
“Well, you are right,” said Agnes, “and I am not sorry to have you present, to hear the good news I bring to Syra. It will make you happy too. Fabiola has allowed me to become your mistress, Syra, and to take you with me. To-morrow you shall be free, and a dear sister to me.”
Cæcilia clapped her hands with joy, and throwing her arms round Syra’s neck, exclaimed: “Oh, how good! How happy you will now be, dear Syra!”
But Syra was deeply troubled, and replied with faltering voice, “O good and gentle lady, you have been kind indeed, to think so much about one like me. But pardon me if I entreat you to remain as I am; I assure you, dear Cæcilia, I am quite happy here.”
“But why wish to stay?” asked Agnes.
“Because,” rejoined Syra, “it is most perfect to abide with God, in the state wherein we have been called.[32] I own this is not the one in which I was born; I have been brought to it by others.” A burst of tears interrupted her for a moment, and then she went on. “But so much the more clear is it to me, that God has willed me to serve Him in this condition. How can I wish to leave it?”