. "You take me to
places that I have never seen before. What place is this?" She stooped
to read the inscription on the door-plate:

"LITTLE SISTERS OF THE POOR."

Before her question could be answered, the door was opened by a wrinkled
old woman, in a nodding white cap, who led them into a reception-room at
the end of the hall.

"Ask for Sister Denisa," said madame, "and give her my name."

The old woman shuffled out of the room, and madame, taking a small
memorandum book from her pocket, began to study it. Joyce sat looking
about her with sharp, curious glances. She wondered if these little
sisters of the poor were barefoot beggar girls, who went about the
streets with ragged shawls over their heads, and with baskets in their
hands. In her lively imagination she pictured row after row of such
unfortunate children, marching out in the morning, empty-handed, and
creeping back at night with the results of the day's begging. She did
not like to ask about them, however, and, in a few minutes, her
curiosity was satisfied without the use of questions.

Sister Denisa entered the room. She was a beautiful woman, in the plain
black habit and white head-dress of a sister of charity.

"Oh, they're nuns!" exclaimed Joyce, in a disappointed whisper. She had
been hoping to see the beggar girls. She had often passed the convent in
St. Symphorien, and caught glimpses of the nuns, through the high barred
gate. She had wondered how it must feel to be shut away from the world;
to see only the patient white faces of the other sisters, and to walk
with meekly folded hands and downcast eyes always in the same old paths.

But Sister Denisa was different from the nuns that she had seen before.
Some inward joy seemed to shine through her beautiful face and make it
radiant. She laughed often, and there was a happy twinkle in her clear,
gray eyes. When she came into the room, she seemed to bring the outdoors
with her, there was such sunshine and fresh air in the cheeriness of
her greeting.

Madame had come to visit an old pensioner of hers who was in the home.
After a short conversation, Sister Denisa rose to lead the way to her.
"Would the little mademoiselle like to go through the house while
madame is engaged?" asked the nun.

[Illustration: JOYCE AND SISTER DENISA.]

"Oh, yes, thank you," answered Joyce, who had found by this time that
this home was not for little beggar girls, but for old men and women.
Joyce had known very