ather, that we are still quite rich, and
before a month is over will be out of debt entirely."

Poor De Vlierbeck seemed quite consoled; and a gleam of fortitude shone
in his black eyes as he approached the table, unrolling the paper he had
brought with him on his return.

"I have something to do too, Lenora. Professor Delsaux gave me some
pieces of music to copy for his pupils, which will give me four francs
in a couple of days. And now be quiet a while, my dear child; my nerves
are so shattered that if we talk I shall make mistakes and spoil the
paper."

"I may sing, father; may I not?"

"Oh, yes; that won't annoy me: your song will please my ear without
distracting my attention."

The old gentleman went on writing, while Lenora, with a rich and joyous
voice, repeated all her songs and poured forth her heart in melody. She
sewed meanwhile diligently, and, from time to time, glanced at her
father to see whether the cloud had fallen again over his face and
spirit.

They had been a considerable time engaged with their several
occupations, when the parish clock struck; and, putting down her work
hastily, Lenora took a basket from behind the stove and prepared to go
out. Her father looked up with surprise as he said,--

"What! _already_, Lenora?"

"It has just struck half-past eleven, father."

Without making any other remark, De Vlierbeck bent his head again over
the music-paper and continued his task.

Lenora soon returned from her walk with her basket full of potatoes and
something else tied up in a paper, which she hid beneath a napkin. Then,
pouring some water in a pot which she placed beside her chair, she began
to sing, and threw in the potatoes as she peeled them. After this she
kindled a fire in the stove and set the pot of potatoes to boil. After
the fire burned well she put a skillet, with a little butter and a good
deal of vinegar, over the coals.

Up to this moment her father had not looked up nor intermitted his work;
he saw her getting dinner ready every day, and it was seldom that any
variety of food appeared on their table. But, hardly had the potatoes
begun to boil, when an agreeable perfume was diffused through the
chamber. De Vlierbeck glanced up from his writing, a little
reproachfully, as he exclaimed,--

"What! meat on Friday, my child? you know very well we must be
economical."

"Don't be angry, father," answered Lenora; "the doctor ordered it."

"You are trying to deceive me, are