"
It was not exactly a promise, but Paula was willing to content herself with
that much.
"Oh, thank you, thank you so much, uncle," said Paula as she embraced him.
"And so you love me a little, do you? In spite of everything?" asked my
father smiling, as he took hold of her chin and turned her face up toward
his.
"Oh, yes, indeed; you don't know how much!"
"You do?" said my father. "Well, that certainly gives me great pleasure. I
see that soon we shall come to understand one another, you and I. By the
way, I noticed that in your Bible there were quite a number of dry flowers.
If you would like them, I will return them to you immediately."
"Oh, many thanks, uncle. I kept them there as remembrances of my father. I
shall keep them in some book where I can look at them often--often!"
"That's what I thought, my little daughter. I'll go and get your Bible, and
you yourself shall take them out."
But now Paula seemed to have a different idea. "No, I think that I prefer
that they remain where they are," she said in an altered voice.
"What's that you say?" exclaimed my father, astonished. "How is it that you
have so suddenly changed your mind?"
"Well, you see," explained Paula, trembling a bit, "they'd better remain
where they are, for I love my Bible, and I've read it every day, and now if
I saw it again, I'm afraid--I'm afraid--" and poor Paula's lip was
trembling.
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