heart
for the blessings He has sent me to compensate for that one dreadful
calamity, your dear father's sudden death ten years ago and my long
illness and subsequent blindness. As I sat to-day in my little garden
listening to the twittering of the birds, and inhaling the fragrance of
my flowers, I was thinking how peaceful and happy my life is and how
grateful I should be. You know, dear, just occasionally I long to be
able to see again, to see the birds and the flowers, to see the
beautiful world around me. That is very wrong and wicked I know, and I
chase the rebellious wish away by thinking of my many blessings,
especially of you and my Philippe. You have both been my comfort and
consolation. By the way, dear, no letter has come from Philippe to-day?"

"No, mother, not yet."

"It is strange that we have not heard from him. This is the first time
he has not written to me for my birthday."

"But he did not forget you, mother. Are you not wearing his beautiful
gift to you which arrived this morning?"

"No, he did not forget," replied the older woman, as her fingers strayed
lovingly over the lace scarf resting so lightly on her snow-white hair.
"My Philippe never forgets and that is why I worried just a little this
morning when his usual birthday letter did not come. Then, this
afternoon, a sudden idea occurred to me which made me very happy. Shall
I tell you what it was, Cecile? I am quite sure I have discovered the
reason why Philippe did not write me for my birthday."

It was well the blind eyes could not see the look of startled fear which
flashed across Cecile's face.

"You have discovered why he did not write?" she exclaimed, and her voice
trembled slightly.

The mother laughed happily. "Yes, I am quite sure I have discovered the
reason. I have a feeling, and I know it is a true feeling, that before
my birthday is quite over Philippe will be here with us. He is coming,
Cecile; he is not far away at this very moment, and before the evening
is over he will be with us."

Tears filled Cecile's eyes but she rose quietly and said, trying to
speak lightly:

"The night mist is rising from the river, mother dear. Had we not better
turn our faces toward the east and home?"

"You are right, child, it will be as well for us to go home a little
early to-night. I am feeling unaccountably weary though very, very
happy. It will be best for me to go home and rest a little before the
evening train arrives bringing my P