one single soul--of that I felt convinced--and no one had loved her, and
she had died unregretted. She must have been as wretched on earth as she
was there in Hell; for which of us can be happy here, if we do not love
and are not loved?

"'There is no chance of a voice being raised in her favour,' I said to
myself. But I was wrong; for at that moment a lovely angel-child flew
past me on its blue and white wings. Without any sign of fear it flew
direct to St. Peter, who looked formidable enough with his long beard and
great keys, and, pointing with its little forefinger to the hard-hearted
woman, cried: 'She once gave me a handful of nuts.'

"'Really,' answered the keeper of Heaven. 'That was not much, and yet
I am surprised; for that woman would not part with so much as a pin,
during her life. But you little one, who were you on earth?'

"'Little Hannele was my name,' answered the angel. 'I died of
starvation, and only once did any one give me anything in my life
to make me happy, and that was that woman yonder.'

"'Marvellous,' answered Peter, stroking his white beard. 'No doubt the
nuts were given as a miserly payment of some service you did her.'

"'No, no,' the angel answered decidedly.

"'Well, tell us how it happened then,' the apostle commanded, and the
dear little soul obeyed:

"'My sick mother and I lived in the city all alone, for father was dead.
Just before Christmas we had nothing more to eat. So mother, though she