XIV
It was impossible to console Christine for the first few days. It was only after the funeral that she was even able to talk to the small child.
"I know it hurts," she said gently, there was no reply, "but there is something you can do. Come with me Christine."
Christine followed her down to the small chapel. A picture of her father had been put there with a candle above it. Christine touched the small picture of his face with her small fingers.
"You may light the candle and pray to him," Antoinette explained. Then she showed her how to light the candle.
"I miss papa," she murmured.
"I know little one, I know."
On their way back Monsieur Lefevre called Antoinette over to him. She bent down and told Christine to go on to the dormitory, Meg would be there.
"How is she?" he asked quietly, not wanting the child to over hear.
"I cannot tell. She misses him a lot. He was her life."
"Does she have any family?"
"Not that I know of."
"Poor girl," he said shaking his head, "what will we do Madame Giry?"
"She is seven years old, I would like her to train here in the theatre, become a dancer."
"I see…but if she has any family-"
"Then they may take her home, but otherwise this would be best."
Monsieur Lefevre nodded him head gravely, "Alright Antoinette, do as you see fit."
Christine sat on the small bed, knees pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped around her legs. Meg sat beside her.
"Don't be sad Christine, maman will take care of you…and I'm here," she added hopefully.
Christine sniffled softly and Meg wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tightly and kissing her on the cheek. It always made her mother fell better if she was sad or tired.
"Good evening," Antoinette said as she entered the room.
"Maman, Christine is sad and I can't make her feel better."
"I know my dear, she will be sad for a while. Her papa died."
"Oh…poor Christine," she said sadly, sniffling herself.
"It will all be fine my little ones. Christine, Monsieur Lefevre is going to let you stay here in the theatre. You will live in the dormitories with Meg and become a dancer."
Christine nodded her head, hitting her chin on her knees as she did so. It didn't matter to her; all that mattered was that her papa had left her. But he had made a promise, he had told her he would send her an angel, but so far nothing had happened, no one had come to her.
"See," Meg said hopefully, "you get to dance just like me."
Antoinette patted her on the shoulder, "You will start lessons tomorrow. I will get you everything you will need. Good night girls."
Christine sniffled softly and rested her chin on her knees; Meg moved closer again and hugged her.
Do you miss your papa Christine?"
"Uh huh."
"I miss him too," Meg sniffled.
The next morning Antoinette made sure that Christine got new practice skirts and ballet slippers. Meg helped her to put them on and showed her some of the few things she had already learned.
"Quiet down little ones," Antoinette said, "and we will begin the lesson."
She smiled as the children immediately quieted, eager to start their lesson. Antoinette noticed though that Christine didn't look at all enthusiastic, of course she hadn't expected her to be. Still she had hoped that she might cheer up a little.
