Denise 's face lighted up , and she clasped her hands . `` If you please , '' she said faintly . `` A French song , Madame -- de ole French song dey sing long ` go . '' Then did Madame Laurin sing . Never had that kitchen chamber been so filled with glorious melody . Song after song she sang -- the old folklore songs of the habitant , the songs perhaps that Evangeline listened to in her childhood . Little Joyce knelt by the bed , her eyes on the singer like one entranced . Denise lay with her face full of joy and rapture -- such joy and rapture ! Little Joyce did not regret the sacrifice of her black doll -- never could regret it , as long as she remembered Denise 's look . `` T'ank you , Madame , '' said Denise brokenly , when Madame ceased . `` Dat was so beautiful -- de angel , dey can not sing more sweet . I love music so much , Madame . Leetle Joyce , she sing to me often and often -- she sing sweet , but not lak you -- oh , not lak you . '' `` Little Joyce must sing for me , '' said Madame , smiling , as she sat down by the window . `` I always like to hear fresh , childish voices . Will you , Little Joyce ? '' `` Oh , yes . '' Little Joyce was quite unembarrassed and perfectly willing to do anything she could for this wonderful woman who had brought that look to Denise 's face . `` I will sing as well as I can for you . Of course , I ca n't sing very well and I do n't know anything but hymns .
I always sing hymns XXXXX Denise , although she is a Catholic and the hymns are Protestant .
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