“Nothing easier, madame; you have only to create a new bourse, or get subscribers to the amount of three hundred francs a year for the term of the child’s education,” replied Monsieur le Curé.
“Then I subscribe for two years down,” said Berthe impulsively. “Who follows suit?”
“I do,” said another speaker; “I will subscribe for one year!”
“And I will give forty francs,” said a third.
“And I a hundred,” said the curé, who was always to the fore when a good work was to be helped on.
In a few minutes, the green table glistened with gold pieces and notes. It was all done so quickly that Hélène had not had time to ask what it was all about, when Berthe ran up to her with the good news that her child was taken in, and, embracing her tenderly, bade her dry her tears.
“How good you are, madame!” said the young girl, returning her caress with fervor; “but I knew you were good; you have the face of an angel!”
“It is better to have the heart of one,” said Berthe, laughing, and hastily rubbing a dew-drop from her own fair face.
“Now, I must make haste away, or I shall be late for my lesson,” said Hélène, after thanking the members who gathered about her, this time embracing and congratulating.
“What lesson are you going to take, ma petite?” inquired Berthe affectionately.