"
"Be careful, my dear," said Hubertine, continuing to tease her. "You
will make your guardian angel, Saint Agnes, weep. Do not you know that
she refused the son of the Governor, and preferred to die, that she
might be wedded to Jesus?"
The great clock of the belfry began to strike; numbers of sparrows flew
down from an enormous ivy-plant which framed one of the windows of
the apse. In the workroom, Hubert, still silent, had just hung up the
banner, moist from the glue, that it might dry, on one of the great iron
hooks fastened to the wall.
The sun in the course of the morning had lightened up different parts
of the room, and now it shone brightly upon the old tools--the diligent,
the wicker winder, and the brass chandelier--and as its rays fell upon
the two workers, the frame at which they were seated seemed almost
on fire, with its bands polished by use, and with the various objects
placed upon it, the reels of gold cord, the spangles, and the bobbins of
silk.
Then, in this soft, charming air of spring, Angelique looked at
the beautiful symbolic lily she had just finished. Opening wide her
ingenuous eyes, she replied, with an air of confiding happiness, to
Hubertine's last remark in regard to the child-martyr, Saint Agnes:
"Ah, yes! But it was Jesus who wished it to be so.
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