up to Pauline,
she looked at me in an almost motherly way; her hands shook a little as
she held the lamp, so that the light fell on me and cried:

"'_Dieu_! how pale you are! and you are wet through! My mother will try
to wipe you dry. Monsieur Raphael,' she went on, after a little pause,
'you are so very fond of milk, and to-night we happen to have some
cream. Here, will you not take some?'

"She pounced like a kitten, on a china bowl full of milk. She did it so
quickly, and put it before me so prettily, that I hesitated.

"'You are going to refuse me?' she said, and her tones changed.

"The pride in each felt for the other's pride. It was Pauline's poverty
that seemed to humiliate her, and to reproach me with my want of
consideration, and I melted at once and accepted the cream that might
have been meant for her morning's breakfast. The poor child tried not to
show her joy, but her eyes sparkled.

"'I needed it badly,' I said as I sat down. (An anxious look passed over
her face.) 'Do you remember that passage, Pauline, where Bossuet tells
how God gave more abundant reward for a cup of cold water than for a
victory?'

"'Yes,' she said, her heart beating like some wild bird's in a child's
hands.

"'Well, as we shall part very soon, now,' I went on in an unsteady
voice, 'you must let me show my gratitude to you and to your mother for
all the care you have taken of me.'

"'Oh, don't let us cast accounts,' she said laughing. But her laughter
covered an agitation that gave me pain. I went on without appearing to
hear her words:

"'My piano is one of Erard's best instruments; and you must take it.
Pray accept it without hesitation; I really could not take it with me on
the journey I am about to make.'

"Perhaps the melancholy tones in which I spoke enlightened the two
women, for they seemed to understand, and eyed me with curiosity and
alarm. Here was the affection that I had looked for in the glacial
regions of the great world, true affection, unostentatious but tender,
and possibly lasting.

"'Don't take it to heart so,' the mother said; 'stay on here. My husband
is on his way towards us even now,' she went on. 'I looked into the
Gospel of St. John this evening while Pauline hung our door-key in a
Bible from her fingers. The key turned; that means that Gaudin is in
health and doing well. Pauline began again for you and for the young man
in number seven--it turned for you, but not for him. We are all going to