t all a likely
subject for visions and delusions. Erica was perplexed. Once more there
came to her that uncomfortable question: "Supposing Christianity were
true?"

The moonlight paled and the Easter morn broke, and still she tossed to
and fro, haunted by doubts which would not let her sleep. But by and by
she returned to the one thing which was absolutely certain, namely, that
her German friend was lovable and to be loved, whatever her creed.

And, since Erica's love was of the practical order, it prompted her
to get up early, dress noiselessly, and steal out of the room without
waking her companion; then, with all the church bells ringing and the
devout citizens hurrying to mass, she ran to the nearest flower stall,
spent one of her very few half-francs on the loveliest white rose to be
had, and carried it back as an Easter offering to the fraulein.

It was fortunate in every way that Erica had the little German lady for
her friend, for she would often have fared badly without some one to
nurse and befriend her.

She was very delicate, and worked far too hard; for, besides all her
work in the school, she was preparing for an English examination which
she had set her heart on trying as soon as she went home. Had it not
been for Fraulein Sonnenthal, she would more than once have thoroughly
overworked herself; and indeed as it was, the strain of that two years
told severely on her strength.

But the time wore on rapidly, as very fully occupied time always does,
and Erica's list of days grew shorter and shorter, and the letters from
her mother were more and more full of plans for the life they would lead
when she came home. The two years would actually end in January; Erica
was, however, to stay in Paris till the following Easter, partly to
oblige Mme. Lemercier, partly because by that time her father hoped to
be in a great measure free from his embarrassments, able once more to
make a home for her.

CHAPTER VII. What the New Year Brought

A voice grows with the growing years;
Earth, hushing down her bitter cry,
Looks upward from her graves, and hears,
"The Resurrection and the Life am I."

O love Divine,--whose constant beam
Shines on the eyes that will not see,
And waits to bless us, while we dream
Thou leavest us because we turn from Thee!

Nor bounds, nor clime, nor creed Thou know'st,
Wide as our need Thy favors fall;
The white wings of the Holy