“That is the dwelling of the French lady who speaks so beautifully about our Lord Jesus Christ,” returned the old man in the same language. “There is to be a prayer-meeting to-night, and Adèle and I are going. Will you come too, monsieur? It will do you no harm to remember your Creator in the days of your youth.” “I trust I do remember him,” said Ivan frankly; “but I shall be glad to come in. I suppose you are all Catholics here?” “The good French lady is a Catholic, but the young minister who expounds the Scriptures and prays at the meetings is an ‘Evangelical,’ as they call it, from Switzerland. But they both love the Lord Jesus Christ, and talk as if they had seen him face to face.” “Ay, indeed they do,” the girl said timidly. “They make you feel him so near.” The old man looked at her affectionately. “The visits of Madame, and the little meetings in her cottage, have indeed been new life to thee, my child,” he said.--“You cannot think, monsieur, what a change there is in her--how much stronger and better she is since these happy thoughts have come to us.” “It is true,” the girl assented. “Last year I thought I was dying; and oh, monsieur, the grave seemed so dark, so awful! Now the fear of death is quite gone, thank God. Still I think He means to let me stay here a little longer, and I am glad--if it is his will.” “Come, dear,” said her grandfather; “the door is open.--Come, monsieur.” Ivan hesitated. “Shall I be welcome?” he asked. “Oh yes, monsieur. There is a gentleman, the son-in-law of Madame, I believe, who is always there, and another, a tall and handsome officer, who is seldom absent. He seems to be a devout soldier, like Cornelius of old. The rest are only friends--people like ourselves.”