Of them, indeed, Marcian thought but carelessly; his hard-set brows betokened another subject of disquiet.

Should he, after Aletrium, go down again to the Latin Way, or should he push a few miles further to the valley of the Liris, and to his own villa?
To-day, being the first day of the week, there was a gathering to hear mass.

Marcian, though he had that in his mind which little accorded with religious worship, felt himself drawn to the little church, and knelt among the toil-worn folk.

Here, as always when he heard the liturgy, his heart melted, his soul was overcome with awe.

From earliest childhood he had cherished a peculiar love and reverence for the Eucharistic prayer, which was associated with his noblest feelings, his purest aspirations.