"Ah, you are here. Thanks, dear Paula," she gasped. "Many thanks for
telling me about Jesus and His love for me. Sing--"
The sentence was never finished, but Paula's sweet voice rose, as once
again she sang the sublime words:
"There is no night there."
"Is she dead?" I said, as we looked down on the still white face.
"Her eyes are open now," said Mlle. Virtud tenderly, "in the City where
there is no night!"
CHAPTER TWO
THE BRETON
It was a snowy, blustery day. It is always a source of pleasure to see the
drifts beginning to bank against the houses across the street On this
afternoon the bushes and roofs were already crowned in white, and all the
trees were festooned as if for a holiday. The smaller objects in the garden
had disappeared under this grand upholstery of nature, and the rattle of
the carts and other ordinary sounds of the village were muffled in the
mantle of snow. To be sure Paula dampened my pleasure a bit by reminding me
that there were many people who were in great suffering on account of the
storm, without proper food, warm clothing, or fire in their houses.
It had been a hard winter. Many of the factories in town had had to
discharge their workers on account of lack of orders.
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