ndfather's
crucifix. If it is dark or stormy outside, I sing canticles, repeat my
catechism, and when I am tired I play with Velours. She never leaves
me."

Blanche did not say all these things consecutively, but in reply to
repeated questions from Zulma, who led her on step by step. And not the
answers themselves, but the manner in which they were made, the tone of
voice, the expression of the eye and the ready gesture, all increased
her interest in this strange charming little being.

"But of late," she said, "your grandfather has been away several nights
together. Were you left all alone?"

"Yes, all alone, mademoiselle."

"And you were not afraid?"

Blanche smiled and there was a vacant look in her eye which reminded
Zulma of Batoche.

"The night is the same as the day," she said.

"Oh, not the same, my darling. At night wicked things go abroad. The
wild beasts prowl, bad men frighten the innocent, and the darkness
prevents help from coming so easily as in the day."

Blanche listened attentively. What she heard was evidently something
new, but it did not disconcert her. She explained to Zulma that when the
hour for rest came, she said all her prayers, put on the night-dress
which Pauline had given her--this was always white, in all
seasons--covered the fire in winter, closed the door in summer, but
never locked it, and then went to sleep.

"When my grandfather is in his alcove, I hardly ever awaken, but if he
is absent I always awaken at midnight. Then I sit up and listen.
Sometimes I hear the owl's cry or the bark of the wolf. At other times,
I hear the great noise of the tempest. Sometimes again there is not a
sound outside, except that of the waterfall. While I am awake I see at
the foot, of my bed the image of my mother. She smiles on me and blesses
me. Then I lie down and sleep till morning."

The above is a cold rehearsal of the words which the child uttered.
There was a pathos in them beyond all words that caused Zulma to shed
copious tears.

"Dear little thing," she exclaimed, clasping her to her bosom. "You
shall be no longer alone. I will take care of you. You will come with me
this very evening. Will your grandfather return to-night?"

"When he does not return, he tells me beforehand. When he returns, he
says nothing. He said nothing this morning, therefore he will return
to-night."

In the earnestness of her interview, Zulma had not noticed the flight of
the hours. When she looked up at