"Tell me, Paula," said my father one evening, "how is the new pupil coming on?"

"Which new pupil?" our cousin said as she came and stood by my father's chair, where he sat reading his paper.

"The Breton, of course. Surely you haven't more than one pupil?"

"For the present, no!" she answered, with a queer little smile on her quiet face.

"For the present, no." repeated my father; "and what may that mean?"

Paula rested her cheek against the top of my father's head.

"Dearest uncle," she said, "will you please grant me a great favor?"

"Now, what?" said my father--and the stern, serious face lighted up with a smile.

"You see, the Breton has almost learned to read, and it would be just splendid if some of his old comrades and his two sons could learn too."

"Oh, Paula, Paula!" said my father--"where is all this going to end?"

But Paula was not easily daunted, especially when the thing asked for was for the benefit of other people.

"Now, why won't you let me teach them, dear uncle?" She came and kneeled at my father's feet, and took both his hands in hers.

"But you're only a very young and very little student, Paula. You must be taught yourself before you can teach others." My father's voice was very tender, but firm as well, and it didn't look to me as if Paula would win.

She said nothing in reply, but stayed kneeling there at his feet with those great appealing eyes of hers fixed on his face.

"We shall see, we shall see," said my father gently, "when you've finished your own studies. Besides I think you're reasonable enough to see that such a task along with your studies would be too big a burden for a child like you. I could not let you take this up."

"I suppose you're right, dear uncle," said Paula humbly, as she rose and rested her head against my father's shoulder, "and yet if you could only know how happy it would make the Breton and his comrades. And besides," she added, "I had fondly hoped that if I could have taught them, they would learn much about the Lord Jesus and take Him as their Saviour, as the Breton has done."

"You seem to think of nothing but how to serve your 'Lord Jesus,'" and there was a wistful sort of tone in my father's voice.

"Well, am I not His servant?"

"No!" said my father, "I'd call you a soldier of His, and one that's always under arms!"

"That's because I have such a wonderful, such a kind, and such a powerful Captain. I wish everybody might come to know Him! And to know Him is to love Him!"

There followed a moment of silence, so solemn, so sweet, that it seemed as if a Presence had suddenly entered, and I personally felt my soul in that moment suddenly lifted toward G.o.d as it had never been before. And as I looked at Paula standing so humbly there her eyes seemed to say: "Oh, my uncle, my cousin, would that you, too, might love Him and receive Him as the Saviour of your soul!"

"Listen, Paula," my father said; "will you leave the Breton and his friends and his sons in my hands for the present?"

Paula looked at him searchingly for a moment, as if trying to find out what was in his mind.

"Of course!" she finally said.

"Well, then, just rest content. I'll try to see the thing through somehow.

If I'm not very much mistaken, these proteges of yours will have very little to complain of."

"Oh, uncle dear!" shouted Paula, delighted, "what are you planning to do?"

"I don't know yet exactly, but I've thought of something. No! No! Don't try to thank me for anything, for I don't know how it will come out. But," he smiled as he laid his hand on Paula's head, "you certainly have a method of asking for things that I don't seem to find any way to refuse you."

CHAPTER FIVE

THE NIGHT SCHOOL

For the first time in my life a great secret had been confided to me. Of course, I felt quite proud that they had considered me important enough to be a sharer of the secret. But my! What a struggle it was not to tell Paula!

In a few days it would be Paula's fifteenth birthday, and the whole family seemed endued with the same idea, to make it an especially happy and unforgettable occasion.

Paula must have suspected something with all the coming and going; the whispering and smothered giggles in corners, etc., but she wasn't the kind to pry into other people's affairs, and so, no matter what she may have thought, she kept her own counsel.

On the morning of the great day, which to our great satisfaction, came on a Sunday, Paula was quite a bit surprised to find that Mlle. Virtud and Gabriel had been invited over to breakfast; but aside from that occurrence there was nothing unusual as yet to indicate that we were celebrating Paula's birthday.

When the meal was finished, however, my father folded up his napkin, and with an air of mock gravity said, "Why, let me see, this is Paula's birthday; isn't it? I suppose Paula's been wondering why there were no gifts piled up on her plate. You see, Paula, we've all combined on the one gift, but it's too big to put on the dining-table. However, it's not far away. Let's all go and have a look at it together."

He led the way out of the house and across the road, and we all followed.

I presume the neighborhood received quite a shock of surprise to see such a procession of folks coming out of the big house. Many came and stood in their front door-yards to view the unusual sight, for instance, of Louis with his arm linked in that of our old servant Teresa, and Paula herself on our father's arm, and the rest of us strung out behind.

We finally stopped in front of Mlle. Virtud's newly-painted little house, with its tiny garden in front in all the splendor of its spring dress.

"Come in, Paula," said our teacher of former days. "Your present is in here in this front room."

We all followed after Paula, eager to see the result of her inspection of the "present."

Paula took one step, and then stopped on the threshold.

"What do you think of your birthday present, Paula?" said my father. "Do you think the Breton and his comrades will be content to come here to study and to leam to sing, etc., in this room?"

"Oh, uncle dear!" and that was all she could say as she embraced and kissed him with a grat.i.tude we all knew well was too deep for mere words to express.

Suddenly Louis pulled her hair a bit, saying, "Well, how about the rest of us. Aren't you going to thank us too? There are a lot of folks here that have had a share in this business."

Paula gave him a smile in which she included all of us in her thankful joy and grat.i.tude.

"Why!" said Paula, "this was the room everybody thought was useless, and which was in such bad condition that the landlord didn't think it worthwhile to fix up!"

"Yes," said my father; "it's the very room. I confess one would hardly recognize it, but when Monsieur Bouche understood what it was to be used for, he went to unusual trouble to fix it properly. You'll have to thank him especially, Paula. He has a reputation of being not always so amiable."

"I will take him a lovely bunch of flowers," said Paula.

"Humph!" said Louis, "I'm sure I don't know what he'd do with them. He doesn't often get flowers from his tenants."