I seem to hear yet those lovely hymns that were sung with such sincerity and heartiness--but the voice that rang clear and true above all others is now mingling its notes with the choirs of heaven. CHAPTER SIX THE HOUSE OF GOD It was vacation time--in August. Teresa said she had never seen a dryer or a hotter summer in her whole existence. Gabriel and his sister had gone to visit their family in the country and we had our usual "red letter" time at Grandmother Dumas' house. We had returned from our visit greatly refreshed--all except Paula, who seemed to have lost somewhat of that perpetual happiness which, when she appeared on the scene had always been such a tonic to us all. She had tried her best not to show it, but she gave us all the impression that she tired very quickly. "I think the reason you tire so soon is because you're growing so quickly," said Teresa. Paula laughed and said that that wasn't her fault. One morning my father seemed to be looking at her more intently than usual. He finally said, "You're not feeling well; are you, Paula?" "I'm all right, dear uncle," she said. "Sometimes I get a bit tired. I think it must be the heat." "But, my dear child, you hardly eat anything at all, and you've lost those roses in your cheeks." He still continued looking at her--then suddenly he said, "I'll tell you one thing that I think would please you very much. Do you know what that would be?" "What, sir?" and Paula seemed to regain all her usual animation. "I think," said my father slowly in a low voice as if talking to himself, "I think you"--and he paused a moment--"What would you say if you were to go to church with Celestina on Sundays?" "Oh, dear uncle, could I really go?" Paula jumped to her feet excitedly. "Yes, I think I'll let you go--and"--again he hesitated a bit--"if Teresa, Rosa and Lisita wish to, they may go along too." "And you, dear uncle, will you not come with us?" questioned Paula, as she looked into the sad, stern face that had softened considerably of late. "We shall see, we shall see. But you'd better not count on me. My, oh, me! Just see! Those roses have all come back again!" "Well, but you don't know how happy you've made me!" said Paula as she fairly danced out of the house with me to tell the news to Celestina. "Well," said Celestina, "all I can say is that the Lord heard my prayers and yours, dear Paula. It's the great weapon of the weak and needy, and in fact can be the power to serve all and anyone who will surrender themselves and all they are into the hands of the Saviour." We had seated ourselves near the door of her little cottage. Something in the deep tones of the old lady's voice seemed to search my very heart. We always enjoyed listening to this old saint who, like Enoch and Noah, walked with God. We seemed to be drawn closer to God in her humble little cottage than in any other place.