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 gratitude 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 gratitude. "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 Bouché 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." Paula walked about the room as in a dream, examining everything. The table in the center had been loaned by Dr. Lebon. The lovely red curtains were a present from Mlle. Virtud. Rosa and Louis had given the two long benches on each side of the table. My father had given the school-books, and I had bought pencils and copy-books from my monthly allowance. It was all very simple and severe, but to Paula's eyes these gifts brought together in the little whitewashed room seemed to her quite wonderful. "Look up there," said Louis, "you haven't seen that yet," and Paula saw hanging from the ceiling a fine new lamp to which a white paper seemed to be tied. Louis reached up and took down the paper for her, and she read as follows: "In great gratitude from the Breton." "Now, look here," said Louis, "you don't need to weep over it! The Breton is only grateful for all you've done for him. Thanks to you, he's been able to save up a little money lately instead of spending it all on drink. "Now, look here," he continued, "you don't need to weep to an elaborately embroidered motto on the wall containing the Lord's words to the weary ones of earth. 'Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.'" "Oh, it's all too much!" said Paula completely overcome. "How can I thank you all for what you've done?"