"Aubrey and his wife are 'beginning work in real earnest'!" said Cyrillon. "And how much their work will mean to the world! More than the world can at present imagine or estimate! It seems to be a settled thing that the value of great work shall never be recognised during the worker's lifetime, but only afterwards—when he or she who was so noble, so self-sacrificing, or so farseeing, shall have passed beyond the reach of envy, scorn and contumely, into other regions of existence and development. The finest deeds are done without acknowledgment or reward, and when the hero or heroine has gone beyond recall, the whole world stands lamenting its blindness for not having known or loved them better. Donna Sovrani"—and his voice softened—"will also soon begin again to work, like Aubrey and Sylvie, 'in real earnest.' Will she not?"
Angela raised her eyes, full of sadness, yet also full of light.
"Yes," she said. "I will! I will work my grief into a glory if I can!
And the loss of world's love shall teach me to love God more!"
Loyse D'Agramont embraced her.
"That is my Angela!" she said. "That is what I wanted you to feel—to know—for I too have suffered!"
"I know you have—and I should have remembered it!" said Angela, penitently. "But—I have been frozen with grief—paralysed in brain and heart, and I have forgotten so many things!" She trembled and closed her eyes for a moment,—then went on—"Give me a little time—a few more days!—and I will prove that I am not ungrateful for your love—" She hesitated, and then turning, gave her hand to Cyrillon,—"or for your friendship."
He bent over the little hand and kissed it reverently, and soon afterwards took his leave, more light of heart, and more hopeful in spirit, than he had been for many days. He felt he could now go on with his work, part of which was the task of distributing the money his father had left him, among the poor of Paris. He considered that to leave money to the poor after death is not half such a Christian act as to give it while alive. Distributors, secretaries, lawyers, and red-tapeism come in with the disposal of wealth after we are gone;—but to give it to those in need with our own hands—to part with it freely and to deny ourselves something in order to give it,—that is doing what Christ asked us to do. And whether we are blessed or cursed by those whom we seek to benefit, none can take away from us the sweet sense of peace and comfort which is ours to enjoy, when we know that we have in some small measure tried to serve our Divine Master, for the "full measure" of content, "pressed down and running over" which He has promised to those who "freely give," has never yet been known to fail.
And Cyrillon Vergniaud was given this happiness of the highest, purest kind, as with the aid of the wondering and reluctant Monsieur Andre Petitot, he gave poor families comfort for life, and rescued the sick and the sorrowful,—and all he reserved to himself from his father's large fortune was half a million francs. For he learned that most of the money he inherited had come to the late Abbe through large bequests left to him by those who had believed in him as a righteous priest of spotless reputation, and Cyrillon's conscience would not allow him to take advantage of money thus obtained, as he sternly told himself, "on false pretences."
"My father would not have wished me to keep it after his public confession," he said. "And I will not possess more than should have been spared in common justice to aid my mother's life and mine. The rest shall be used for the relief of those in need. And I know,—if I told Angela—she would not wish it otherwise!"
So he had his way. And while his prompt help and personal supervision of the distribution of his wealth brought happiness to hundreds of homes, he was rewarded by seeing Angela grow stronger every day. The hue of health came gradually back to her fair cheeks,—her eyes once more recovered their steadfast brightness and beauty, and as from time to time he visited her and watched her with all the secret passion and tenderness he felt, his heart grew strong within him.