Then, just as suddenly, in confusion she
dropped them and buried her own face in her hands.
At this Paula sprang to her feet and put her arms about the poor girl, and
murmured in her ear, "We do love you so, Marguerite!"
After that visit, little by little Marguerite began to love to hear us
speak of the Saviour. Her indifference and sadness disappeared, giving
place to a quiet peace and joy that was contagious for all who came in
contact with her. Mme. Bertin no longer called her "My poor daughter," only
"My Marguerite." For the next two years she became our constant delight.
Teresa at times gave us clothes but slightly worn to take to her, which
gave us almost as much joy as we carried them to Marguerite as she herself
felt on receiving them.
One day Gabriel came running to tell us that Marguerite was quite ill, and
we lost no time in going to see her. With painful feelings of presentiment
we mounted the steep stairs to her room.
As we entered, Madame Bertin came toward us with her apron to her eyes and
Mile. Virtud made signs for us to come over to the bed, as she slightly
raised the sick girl's head.
"Dearest Marguerite," said our teacher; "Here are Paula and Lisita.
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