Awed, not daring to draw nearer, unwilling to go back, Domitia stood looking. Neither did Flavia Domitilla stir.
After a little while, however, the latter signed to Domitia to depart, and made as though she also would go.
“She sleeps,” she said.
Then Glyceria’s bright eyes opened, and she said:—
“Not till after the Collect—at that I must be—bear me down—then only——”
CHAPTER XVII.
HAIL, GLADSOME LIGHT!
Before the day began to break, from various quarters came men and women, in twos and threes to the house of Flavia Domitilla.
The visitor to Rome may see the very spot where stood her house and garden. For this good woman converted the latter into a place of sepulture for the Christians, and the catacomb that bears her name is one of the most interesting of those about Rome. Not only so, but the ruins of her villa remain, on the farm of Tor Marancia, or the Ardeatine Way. Here lived the widow of the martyr Clemens, with her sister-in-law, Plautilla, and her niece, of the same name as herself, all three holy women, serving God and ministering to the necessities of the poor.
The Collect, or assembly of the Faithful, was to take place in the atrium or hall of the villa. Domitilla had only Christian slaves with her in her country residence, and could trust them.