THE SNOW.]

"Roses!" cried Uncle Bertrand. "Is it that the child is mad? They are the
jewels of my sister Clotilde."

Elizabeth clasped her hands and leaned towards Dr. Norris, the tears
streaming from her uplifted eyes.

"Ah! monsieur," she sobbed, "you will understand. It was for the
poor--they suffer so much. If we do not help them our souls will be lost.
I did not mean to speak falsely. I thought the Saints--the Saints---" But
her sobs filled her throat, and she could not finish. Dr. Norris stopped,
and took her in his strong arms as if she had been a baby.

"Quick!" he said, imperatively; "we must return to the carriage, De
Rochemont. This is a serious matter."

Elizabeth clung to him with trembling hands.

"But the poor woman who starves?" she cried. "The little children--they
sit up on the step quite near--the food was for them! I pray you give
it to them."

"Yes, they shall have it," said the Doctor. "Take the basket, De
Rochemont--only a few doors below." And it appeared that there was
something in his voice which seemed to render obedience necessary, for
Monsieur de Rochemont actually did as he was told.

For a moment Dr. Norris put Elizabeth on her feet again, but it was
only while he removed his overcoat and wrapped it about her slight