"Miss de Musset had very few acquaintances, but there was an old gentleman who used to come and see her called Monsieur Du Bellay; he would bring a violin with him which he used to play in the kitchen whilst she was preparing her lodgers' dinners. When mother was quite a little girl he taught her the violin, and she used to practise in the kitchen, and they all used to be very merry together."
"I can picture the scene."
"Always on Sundays, Miss de Musset would take mother to church," the little girl proceeded, "and generally they attended a French Protestant church, which I don't suppose you ever heard of, Uncle Guy. Miss de Musset used to love the service there, because it was all in French, and mother said the congregation was always very reverent. Most of those who worshipped there were working people whose ancestors had suffered for the sake of their religion in France, because they had been Huguenots. Often Monsieur Du Bellay would go to the French Protestant church, too, and then he would go home to supper with Miss de Musset and mother. He earned his living by teaching music and singing, and it was he who trained mother's voice."
"Miss de Musset had become an old woman by the time mother had grown up, and mother was so glad to be able to earn money, because the lodging-house did not pay so well as it had. Then Miss de Musset died, and soon after that mother married father, who had been one of Miss de Musset's lodgers, as you know, Uncle Guy. At first she was very happy, but afterwards she thought she had done wrong in marrying, because grandfather was so angry; he would not let father bring mother here or have anything to do with her, and she was very unhappy, though she loved father dearly—so dearly that when he died she thought her heart would break. Then grandfather wanted to take me away from her—oh, I know now he wouldn't have done it against her will!—and she determined she would never give me up, but work for me, and—and she did. I have often heard her say that if she was ever troubled or depressed, she had only to think of a verse in the Twenty-seventh Psalm to be quite comforted—'When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.' It had been so true in her case, you know. God had found her a friend when she had been a poor little deserted baby, and she always had faith that He would do everything for the best."
"What became of the old Frenchman—Monsieur Du Bellay?"
"He is dead now. Oh, I remember him so well! He was very tall, with white hair, and such kind, dark eyes; he had rather a grave way of talking, and sometimes he looked very sad. I liked him so much, he was so kind. When he died he left mother all the money he had."
"It was not much, I conclude?"
"No, not quite twenty pounds after the expenses of his illness and funeral had been paid. Mother felt his death dreadfully, and so did I. I shall always remember the night he died. Mother took me to see him; he was sitting in an easy-chair by the fire in his bedroom, and I knelt down by his side, and he put both his hands on my head and said: 'The Lord bless thee and keep thee, little one'—and an hour after we had gone he died."
"You have had some sad partings in your life, Felicia," her uncle said gently.
Felicia nodded. There were tears in her blue eyes, but the expression of her face was not altogether a sorrowful one, for she was thinking of the land that is very far off, and whilst her uncle's mind dwelt on the sadness of earthly life, her faith had carried her beyond this world into the presence of the King in His beauty; for hers was the sure and certain hope of everlasting life.