greatly afraid; but, strange to say, this morning he went on his way with a
firm, straight step, behaving himself quite like an ordinary person.

The sky was clear and very, very blue, without a single cloud. It had
rained the night before, for on all the trees and bushes thousands of
water-drops glistened like diamonds in the light of the newly risen sun.

Dozens of little birds were singing their morning songs in the great linden
trees on the avenue, and the scent of the flowers from the laborers' little
gardens over the way, floated in through the window, and what a multitude
they were!--roses, lilies, geraniums, pansies and forget-me-nots. I could
not see our own garden from our bedroom window, but I knew that there also
there would be flowers in profusion, thanks to faithful Teresa's unceasing
care. Here also hung that delight of my life--the swing which my father had
placed under the apple-tree one happy day five years ago. Oh, how Paula
would love it, and how happy she would be among us! Again I took a peep
between the curtains but still she slept. Would she never wake up? Now I
had a chance to observe her more closely. That beautiful face, just a bit
serious, buried in the white pillow, on which were signs of moisture,
betraying the fact that tears had been mixed with her slumbers.

It was long after we finished breakfast, and our father had gone to his
work, that she finally awoke. But now, all her sadness had disappeared, and
not a sign of a tear remained. She ate her breakfast with great gusto, not
however without again performing that strange custom of putting her hands
together, and repeating the prayer which our astonished ears had heard the
night before.

Teresa searched among my sister's clothes for something a little more
modern with which to clothe our little country visitor. Meanwhile Paula