She soothed the baby's plaints upon her bosom as she walked it, up and down the floor, singing a sweet, nursery song in a low and tender voice, until it fell asleep. Then she came and laid it sleeping on its cot. "My dear daughter," said the abbess, gravely, "before you select this field of duty, I must warn you that it is, and it _must needs_ be, of all charitable administrations, the most laborious and trying." "It may be so; but it is also the most divine," said Salome, with a grave, sweet smile. "Listen, dear mother. I know not how it is, but--with all its pathos--the sphere of this room is heavenly. And while I held that baby to my bosom and soothed it to sleep, its little, soft form seemed to draw all the fever and soreness from my own aching heart as well. Here is my earthly work, dear mother! Nay, rather, here is my heavenly mission and consolation. Leave me here." The mother-superior took the votaress at her word, and left her then and there. In the course of the same day a small closet, communicating with the infants' dormitory, was fitted up as a sleeping berth for Salome, and her few personal effects were conveyed from the convent and arranged within her new dwelling. Salome had not mistaken her vocation. To serve these forsaken and suffering children was to her a labor of love; to relieve them, a work of joy. She never left her charge, except to go to chapel, or to her meals, which she took at the nuns' table, in their refectory. On Christmas Eve, as she returned from dinner, Sister Francoise invited her to look into the work-room and see the Christmas presents in process of preparation. To please the kind sister, she followed her into a long hall, furnished with little tables, at each of which sat two or three of the nuns at work. As Salome, with her conductor, walked down the room, she saw that on one table was a pile of children's illustrated books of great variety to suit little ones, from three years old to thirteen. The two nuns seated at the table were busy writing in the books the names of those for whom they were intended. Another table was piled with woolen scarfs, socks, gloves, and night-caps for the aged men and women, which the two nuns seated there were employed in rolling up into separate little parcels, and labeling with the names of the intended recipients. Still another, and a longer table, was bright and gay with party-colored scraps of silk, satin, velvet, ribbon, muslin, lace and linen, with which half a dozen young nuns seated there were cheerfully engaged in making dresses for a basket full of dolls, for the Christmas gifts to the infants. The blooming young nun Felecitie presided at this table. Seeing Salome approach with Sister Francoise, she accosted her: "Our holy mother told us that you would come in and help us dress these dolls." "And so I would have done, only I found some living and suffering dolls to dress and feed," said Salome, smiling.