which, in the absence of the Lord, had gained the mastery, laid her head on the Magdalene's shoulder, while every now and then she moaned: "Lazarus will die and my Lord is away."
And the Magdalene, whose deep grief none but the mother of Jesus had divined, joined her tears with those of the other Mary, and cried as though her heart would break; yet, to give courage to herself, she sobbed: "He will live again, he will live again."
At that moment the door of the house was opened, and a woman came out of the porch and looked around; then a querulous voice exclaimed: "Mary, Mary, where art thou?"
Mary rose to answer her sister's call, but the Magdalene made as if she would depart.
"Nay, stay; thou wouldst see Lazarus," said the kindly Mary, "and thou hast walked many miles; thou must rest and be refreshed."
But the Magdalene answered: "Nay, nay; anger not Martha, for she hath much to trouble her."
They turned their footsteps towards the house, and Martha came to meet them.
"This is a fitting time, forsooth, when thy brother lieth sick, to wander in the garden. Thinkest thou I have naught to do that thou leavest me to serve alone?"
Mary had scarce murmured a meek, "Forgive me, sister," when the eyes of Martha fell on the Magdalene.
"What dost thou here?" she asked sternly; for she had been brought up in the sternest principles of morality, and with all the Pharisaical hatred of
