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It prevented her from talking, and she always had something to say. Her voice was so loud that one heard it at the other end of the dormitory. Sister Marie-Aimée used to say, "There's Ismérie talking again;" and Ismérie used to answer, "There's Sister Marie-Aimée scolding again." Her daring frightened me, but Sister Marie-Aimée used to pretend not to hear her.
Sister Marie-Aimée looked at her in astonishment, and Bonne Néron faced her, putting her head down, shaking it, butting at her almost, and shouting all the time that she would not be ordered about by a bit of a baby. She walked backwards as she shouted, got to the door, and pulled it open.
I compared myself to Sister Marie-Aimée, who always said that her little flock was hard to manage. And yet she used to get us together at one stroke of the bell and she could always make us perfectly quiet by raising her voice a little.
Sister Marie-Aimée had been growing sadder and sadder for some time. She never played with us any more, and she even used to forget our dinner time. Madeleine would send me to the chapel to fetch her, and I would find her there on her knees with her face hidden in her hands. I had to pull at her dress before she took any notice of me.
Sophie told me that we must submit to the will of Our Lady, because She knew what was necessary for Colette's happiness better than we did. I should have liked to have known whether Sister Marie-Aimée knew about Colette. I did not see her till the afternoon, when we were out walking. She did not look sad. She looked almost pleased. I had never seen her look so pretty. Her whole face shone.
She used to say all kinds of rude things to me, and always finished up by calling me "Miss Princess." She could not forgive me for Sister Marie-Aimée's affection for me, and whenever she saw the Sister kissing me she got quite red with anger. I began to grow, and my health was pretty good. Sister Marie-Aimée said that she was proud of me.
She came back, climbed up to her desk again, and after a moment she said, without looking at anybody, "He really is a very distinguished man." Our new priest lived in a little house near the chapel. In the evening he used to walk in the avenue of linden trees. He often passed close to the playground where we were playing, and he always used to bow very low to Sister Marie-Aimée.
When M. le Curé came to see us later in the day Sister Marie-Aimée told him that I had almost fainted at Communion. He took my chin in his hand and tipped my face up towards him. Then, after looking into my eyes, he began to laugh, and said that I was a very sensitive little girl. After our first communion we did not attend class any more. Bonne Justine taught us to sew.
When he came to pay us a visit two or three days afterwards, I saw that he had white hair in little curls round his neck, and that his eyes and his eyebrows were very black. He asked for those of us who were preparing their catechism, and wanted to know everybody's name. Sister Marie-Aimée answered for me. She put her hand on my head and said, "This is our Marie Claire."
I had only one day more, as the Mother Superior had told me I should be fetched next day, for the day after was the feast of St. John. In the evening, at the end of prayers, when Sister Marie-Aimée had said, "Lord, be pitiful to exiles and give your aid to prisoners," she added, in a loud voice, "We will say a prayer for one of your companions who is going out into the world."
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