Then she immediately added, "But have you put your address, to receive the answer?"
The child, who looked upon the lady with the utmost astonishment, answered, "No, Madam; but the sister at my school tells us that the Good God knows everything."
"And she has told you the truth, my child" said the lady, smiling; "but those whom He may charge to deliver the answer may not know as well as He does."
The child then stated where her poor parents lived, received two francs from the lady, and with a joyous heart betook herself back to the wretched garret.
In the morning she found at her door a large hamper containing clothes, provisions, and some money. A label was affixed, inscribed, "The answer of the Good God."
A gentleman named M'Carthy, eminent for his medical skill, and also much respected for his generous and benevolent disposition, soon after, at the instance of the charitable lady, visited the poor sufferers. He was one of those Irishmen whose talents and worth attained to high professional positions in Paris. He speedily cured the man, and considerably alleviated the sufferings of the woman. He allowed me to accompany him two or three times whilst attending the humble denizens of the garret, from whence charity had removed misery and despair, and on those occasions I found the little girl fully convinced and most earnestly insisting, that the answer of the Good God must have been brought by one of His angels.
CHAPTER XXXIV. FATHER PROUT.
I had, during my residence in Paris, the supreme gratification of being honored with the intimacy of the Rev. Francis Mahony, whose nom de plume of "Father Prout" is suggestive of a complete union of learning, wit, and poetic power, without the slightest alloy of pedantry, acerbity, or vanity. I was a very frequent visitor at his apartments in the Rue de Moulin, and was never denied admission. If he was writing, I did not accost him, but sat down, taking up a newspaper or book, and remaining silent until he found himself at leisure either to chat at home, or to saunter out through the parks or gardens, museums or libraries, I repeatedly thanked him for the unrestricted access thus granted, and his invariable reply was, "Come whenever you please, you never interrupt me." He was the correspondent of a London evening paper, The Globe and Traveller, and I do not think that he relished the occupation, for his conversation scarcely ever indicated a political tendency, and I never knew him to introduce a topic involving political or religious differences. At the time to which I refer, the war was raging between the northern and southern states of America; and the only opinion that I ever heard Father Mahony express on the subject was not favorable to the cause of either side as regarded its merits, but to the effect, that whatever might be the issue of the contest, the belligerent states would never become again united in firm and enduring friendship. He formed this conclusion from the deadly hatred and vengeful denunciations evinced by great numbers of Americans of both parties who were then in Paris, and amongst whom the females were the most uncompromising and persistently truculent in their expressions. It remains for time to confirm or confute his prediction; I pass to one or two anecdotes of this gifted and amiable individual, which I hope my readers will consider interesting. I had made an appointment with him to have a ramble in the French capital, or its environs, and twelve o'clock was the hour fixed for its commencement. Some unforeseen circumstances, however, delayed my arrival at his residence until another hour had nearly elapsed. When I apologised for my failure in punctuality, Father Mahony said that he had employed the interval in jotting down suggestions as to the direction which our proposed saunter might take, for my consideration and decision. They are as follow:—