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Now since she had been at Maraucourt and had new hopes and was at work, the nightmares had been less frequent and so she was not so sad. Now she thought of what she was going to do at the factory the next day, of the skirt and waist that she would make, of her underwear.
"Quite straight," said Perrine laughing, "it isn't so very straight after all." "If you are going to Maraucourt, I'm going there too, and we could go together," suggested the girl. "I will if you'll let me help you carry your basket," said Perrine with a smile. "I won't say no to that, for it's sure heavy!" The girl put her basket on the ground and breathed a sigh of relief.
Her writing is fairly good but, of course, she needs to study hard. She is so intelligent it is extraordinary. So as to know exactly what she knew in writing and spelling I asked her to write me an account of Maraucourt. In twenty to a hundred lines I asked her to describe the village to me. She sat down and wrote.
"You don't belong to Maraucourt, do you?" asked the girl. "No, do you?" "Sure I do." "Do you work in the factories?" "Should say so, everybody does here." "How much do they pay?" "Ten sous." "And is it hard work?" "Not very; but you have to have a sharp eye and not waste time. Do you want to get in there?" "Yes, if they'd have me." "Should say they would have you; they take anybody.
Perrine told about their life before they lost all their money; then about their travels through the various countries and the wanderings over the mountains; then of her father's illness and his death, and how she and her sick mother journeyed through France with the hope that they could reach Maraucourt in time before the sick woman died.
The sick woman made a sign that she wanted to say more, but that she must rest for a moment. Little Perrine waited, her eyes fixed on her mother's face. "You will go to Maraucourt?" said the dying woman after a few moments had passed. "You have no right to claim anything ... what you get must be for yourself alone ... be good, and make yourself loved. All is there ... for you.
"Palikare," said Perrine at last. "You have thought that also?" asked the mother. "Yes," said Perrine, "and I have been so unhappy about it, and sometimes I did not dare look at him for fear he would guess that we were going to part with him instead of taking him to Maraucourt with us. He would have been so happy there after such a long journey."
The matter was quite decided, and after having been to the baker's to buy another half a pound of bread for her supper, instead of returning to Mother Françoise's she again took the road that she had taken early that morning. She slipped behind the hedge as the factory hands who lived outside Maraucourt came tramping along the road on their way home. She did not wish to be seen by them.
He stopped for a second, then went on: "And I shall also need you at Maraucourt. You can go back this evening, and tomorrow be at the office. I will tell you what you will have to do." When she had interpreted the orders which he wished to give to the machinists, he left, and that day she was not required to read the newspapers. But what did that matter?
As she still held out the envelope the mistress of the store caught sight of the words Maraucourt Factories, Vulfran Paindavoine in one of the corners. The expression of her face changed at once, her smile was very pleasant now. "What do you wish, Mademoiselle?" she asked, leaving her desk and drawing forward a chair for Perrine.
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