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Updated: June 7, 2025
That day she was going to serve the cakes, and Madeleine, who was helping her, was taking off the cloth which covered them. Then a cat, which had been under the cloth, jumped down and ran away. Sister Marie-Aimée and Madeleine both said "Oh," and Madeleine said, "The dirty beast has been nibbling all the cakes." Sister Marie-Aimée did not like the cat.
I went with her across the yard, and when Ox Eye had closed the heavy gate behind her, I stood and listened to the echo of its closing. That evening Sister Désirée-des-Anges came into the room later than usual. She had been taking part in special prayer for Sister Marie-Aimée, who was going away to nurse the lepers. Winter came again.
My throat had grown so tight that I could not swallow, and I felt a liquid dropping from my mouth into my throat. Then I was wildly frightened, for Madeleine had warned us that if we bit the holy wafer the blood of Christ would stream from our mouths, and that nobody would be able to stop it. Sister Marie-Aimée wiped my face and whispered quite low, "Take care, dear. Are you ill?"
Otherwise you would have been brought back to the farm between two gensdarmes." As I didn't answer, he said again, "Perhaps you don't know that there are gensdarmes who bring little girls back, when they run away." I said, "I want to go and see Sister Marie-Aimée." "Are you unhappy with us?" he asked. I said again, "I want to go and see Sister Marie-Aimée."
Nobody thought of laughing at Sister Gabrielle, who went upstairs slowly, saying "Hush, hush," all the time, without making the noise any less. The servant in the little dormitory was crying too. She shook me a little while she was undressing me and said, "I'm sure you are pleased at having that Sister Marie-Aimée of yours." We used to call the servant Bonne Esther.
M. le Curé's sister was an old maid with a long face and big faded eyes. We called her Mademoiselle Maximilienne. Sister Marie-Aimée told her how anxious she was about my future. She said that I learned things easily, but that no kind of sewing interested me.
This one was a tall, fine man. He sang with a strong, jerky voice. We talked about him all the evening. Madeleine said he was a handsome man, and Sister Marie-Aimée thought, she said, that he had a young voice, but that he pronounced his words like an old man, and that he was distinguished looking.
She used to say that I was just as likely to begin at the end of it as at the beginning. I had not forgotten Sister Marie-Aimée, but I was no longer as sick with longing for her as I used to be. And I was happy on the farm. In the month of June the men came, as they came every year, to shear the sheep. They brought bad news with them.
I was a little girl who had been left on the top of a mountain. A beautiful lady dressed like a fairy had seen me up there, and came to fetch me. Three or four lovely ducks ran in front of her. They had just come up to me when I saw Sister Marie-Aimée standing in front of the cupboard with the rusty locks and looking about for me everywhere. I did not know that I was sitting on the cupboard.
But I did not sob long, and I knew that I was not as sorry as I wanted to be. I tried to cry, but I could not shed a single tear. I was a little bit ashamed of myself because I believed that one ought to cry when somebody died, and I didn't dare uncover my face for fear that Sister Marie-Aimée should think that I was hard hearted. I listened to her crying.
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