Love at Dawn

2.Is She An Angel？

"Look, whose elegant carriage is that? It's absolutely stunning."

"Perhaps it's from the palace!"

Edith's sharp eyes didn't need to follow the direction of the onlookers' pointing fingers to spot the exquisitely crafted female carriage. Its dazzling decorations shone and sparkled, exuding unparalleled luxury.

The carriage came to a stop by the street.

A maid first stepped out, followed by a graceful petite head adorned with a golden-like chignon. Then, a slender arm enveloped in pristine white gloves extended towards the maid, who supported a lily-white dress to jump down from the carriage - even from this distance, one could discern the high-quality softness of its silk - inside was a wondrous beautiful damsel.

"A peerless beauty!" exclaimed a university student in exaggeration.

"Must be a very highborn lady," sighed an elderly woman.

"Definitely a princess," asserted a man of property, leaning on his cane, already balding.

The noble young lady walked towards the little beggars along the street, unfolding the handkerchief to reveal a handful of shiny coins.

"Notre Dame! An angel of kindness!" exclaimed the old lady in excitement.

"Even his Majesty Beelzebub would shed tears at this scene," joked the university student.

"This is a miracle on earth," said a round old man, tears welling up in his eyes.

More and more passersby gathered at the bridge, mesmerized by the scene before them.

Indeed, it was a marvelous picture:

The young lady handed the coins to the suffering children one by one, her lashes casting soft shadows each time she bent down. The setting sun shone on her delicate profile, creating a momentary illusion of divine light.

The children were also apparently moved by this sacred radiance.

One of them knelt before her, trying to kiss the angel's feet, while another smaller one eagerly reached out to touch the hem of the angel's holy garment, as if receiving communion.

But the "angel" suddenly became flustered and backed away.

Just before the kid's hand touched her undefiled dress, she grabbed the hem and hastily pulled it back, stumbling a few steps backwards. Even the last glittering gold piece fell from her handkerchief, rolling into a drain.

Fortunately, the immaculate dress of the Virgin Mary did not get tainted with the terrifying filthy fingers of the waifs.

The "angel" stood still for a few seconds, seeming somewhat overwhelmed, but quickly regained composure.

She walked towards the waiting maid and lightly leaped onto the carriage with the help of the latter's arm, her snow-white skirt fluttering as she disappeared behind the velvet curtain, just as spotless as when she arrived.

Little Edith witnessed the entire scene.

However, the rest of the audience seemed to have not noticed this interruption. The crowd murmured in admiration, clearly still entranced by the miraculous spectacle. It was difficult to tell if their eyes were not as keen as Edith's or if their hearts were not as bright.

Only the painter next to her remained silent.

"You should have recorded that scene, Monsieur le painter!" the balding man of property reached out his chubby hand to pat Andre's shoulder.

"I've already captured the scenery here. Let's go," the painter abruptly packed up his tools and spoke to Edith.

The tall and the short walked in common silence side by side across the bridge, sharing the heavy atmosphere until they reached the archway of the bridge on the other side.