His mother who was in heaven, with all the saints and angels.

What could it be like up there?
It was perhaps a forest, such as Fontainebleau, only there were sure to be numbers of birds which sang like the nightingales in the Borghese Gardens--there would be no canaries! The sun always shone and _Maman_ would wear a beautiful dress of blue gauze with wings, and her lovely hair, which was fair, not red like Cherisette's, would be all hanging down.

It surely was a very desirable place, and quite different from the Neville Street lodging.

Why could he not get there, out of the cold and darkness?
Cherisette had always taught him that God was so good and kind to little boys who had crippled backs.

He would ask God with all the force of his music, to take him there to _Maman_.
The sound of the familiar air struck a chill note upon Mimo and Zara, as they came up the stairs; it made them hasten their steps--they knew very well what mood it meant with the child.
He was so far away, in his passionate dream-prayer, that he did not hear them coming until they opened the door; and then he looked up, his beautiful dark eyes all wet with tears which suddenly turned to joy when he saw his sister.
"_Cherisette adoree_!" he cried, and was soon in her arms, soothed and comforted and caressed.