Into all these humble dwellings the beautiful girl was welcomed as an angel of light.

The delicacies and rich wines that nourished and strengthened them they owed to her bounty; the words of holy hope and consolation that soothed their dying hours, her sweet voice read; the hymns that seemed a foretaste of Heaven, her clear voice sang.

Her white hands closed their dying eyes and folded the rigid arms, and decked the room of death with flowers that took away half its ghastliness.

Her deft fingers arranged the folds of the shroud, and the winding-sheet, and her gentle tones whispered comfort and resignation to the sorrowing ones behind.

How they blessed her, how they loved her, those poor people, was known only to Heaven and themselves.
There were two others in all these stricken houses, at these beds of death--Father Francis and Dr.Danton.They were her indefatigable fellow-labourers in the good work, as unwearied in their zeal and patience and as deeply beloved as she was.