."

"I must speak to them."

Leaning on Perrine's shoulder, he told her to guide him. Preceded by
Fabry, who made way for them, they went into the yard where the firemen
were turning the hose on the house as the flames burst forth in a
crackling sound.

In a far-off corner several women stood round the two mothers who were
crying. Fabry brushed aside the group. M. Vulfran went up to the
bereaved parents, who sat with their dead children on their knees. Then
one of the women, who thought perhaps that a supreme help had come,
looked up with a gleam of hope in her eyes. When she recognized M.
Vulfran she raised her arm to him threateningly.

"Ah," she cried, "come and see for yourself what they do to our babies
while we are sweating and killing ourselves for you. Can you give us
back their lives? Oh, my little boy."

She burst into sobs as she bent over her child.

M. Vulfran hesitated for a moment; then he turned to Fabry and said:

"You are right; let us go."

They returned to the offices. After a time Talouel came to tell his
employer that out of the six children that they had thought were dead,
three had been found in the homes of neighbors, where they had been
carried when the fire first broke out. The burial for the other three
tiny victims was to take place the next day.

When Talouel had gone, Perrine, who had been very thoughtful, decided to
speak to M. Vulfran.

"Are you not going to the burial service of these little babies?" she
asked. Her trembling voice betrayed her emotion.

"Why should I go?" asked M. Vulfran.

"Because that would be the most dignified answer you could give to what
that poor woman said."

"Did my work people come to the burial service of my son?" asked M.
Vulfran, coldly.

"They did not share your sorrow," said Perrine gravely, "but if you
share theirs now they will be touched."

"You don't know how ungrateful the workingman is."

"Ungrateful! For what? The money they receive? They consider that they
have a right to the money they earn. It is theirs. Would they show
ingratitude if an interest was taken in them, if a little friendly help
was given them? Perhaps it would not be the same, do you think so?
Friendship creates friendship. One often loves when one knows one is
loved, and it seems to me that when we are friendly to others, we make
friends ourselves. It means so much to lighten the burdens of the poor,
but how much more is it to lighten their sorrows ... by help