"You have not seen her hair," said the mother, as she guided the girl's hands upward and over the waves of light brown hair that seemed like an aurora fit for such a face, and then finally down the long braids that extended below Paula's waist Then with one of those sudden movements characteristic of the blind, she carried the shining braids to her lips and kissed them as in an ecstasy. Then, just as suddenly, in confusion she dropped them and buried her own face in her hands.
At this Paula sprang to her feet and put her arms about the poor girl, and murmured in her ear, "We do love you so, Marguerite!"
After that visit, little by little Marguerite began to love to hear us speak of the Saviour. Her indifference and sadness disappeared, giving place to a quiet peace and joy that was contagious for all who came in contact with her. Mme. Bertin no longer called her "My poor daughter," only "My Marguerite." For the next two years she became our constant delight. Teresa at times gave us clothes but slightly worn to take to her, which gave us almost as much joy as we carried them to Marguerite as she herself felt on receiving them.
One day Gabriel came running to tell us that Marguerite was quite ill, and we lost no time in going to see her. With painful feelings of presentiment we mounted the steep stairs to her room.
As we entered, Madame Bertin came toward us with her apron to her eyes and Mile. Virtud made signs for us to come over to the bed, as she slightly raised the sick girl's head.
"Dearest Marguerite," said our teacher; "Here are Paula and Lisita."
"May God bless them both," and Marguerite spread out her ams toward us, adding, "Oh, Paula, please sing again, 'There's no night there!'" And Paula sang once more the old hymn.
"In the land of fadeless day
Lies the city foursquare;
It shall never pass away,
And there is no night there.
"God shall wipe away all tears;
There's no death, no pain, nor fears;
And they count not time by years,
For there is no night there.
"Oh, how beautiful!" And it seemed as if the poor blind girl were straining those sightless orbs for a glimpse of the Beautiful City. "Don't cry, mother," she said as she caught a low sob from the other end of the room. "I am so happy now to go to be with Jesus in His City." The poor mother put her face close to her daughter's lips so that she might not lose a word.