the brooding eyebrows of the Emperor, Murat's fierce
mustaches, the great shakos of the Guard, were all worked
out with the minutest fidelity. Thea's admiration for this
picture had endeared her to Mrs. Kohler. It was now many
years since she used to point out its wonders to her own
little boys. As Mrs. Kohler did not go to church, she never
heard any singing, except the songs that floated over from
Mexican Town, and Thea often sang for her after the lesson
was over. This morning Wunsch pointed to the piano.

"On Sunday, when I go by the church, I hear you sing
something."

Thea obediently sat down on the stool again and began,
"COME, YE DISCONSOLATE." Wunsch listened thoughtfully,
his hands on his knees. Such a beautiful child's voice!
Old Mrs. Kohler's face relaxed in a smile of happiness;
she half closed her eyes. A big fly was darting in and out
of the window; the sunlight made a golden pool on the
rag carpet and bathed the faded cretonne pillows on the
lounge, under the piece-picture. "EARTH HAS NO SORROW
THAT HEAVEN CANNOT HEAL," the song died away.

"That is a good thing to remember," Wunsch shook him-
self. "You believe that?" looking quizzically at Thea.

She became confused and pecked nervously at a black
key with her middle finger. "I don't know. I guess so,"
she murmured.