One time it came about that Bessie Bell lay a long time in her
little white crib-bed, and she did not know why, and she did not
care much why. She did not get up and play in the sand while Sister
Mary Felice looked one hour at the little girls playing in the sand.

She scarcely wondered why she did not leave the crib-bed to sit on
the long gallery-step in a row with all the other little girls, all
with their feet on the gravel, and all eating the tiny cakes that
Sister Ignatius made, while Sister Angela sat on the bench under the
magnolia-tree and looked at the row of little girls.

If sometimes just at waking from fitful sleep in her crib-bed there
came to her just a thought, or a remembrance, of a great big soft
white cat that reached its paw out and softly touched her cheek, it
came to her only like the touch of fancy in a big soft white dream.

Often Only-Just-Ladies came and talked over her little white crib
with Sister Helen Vincula.

Bessie Bell's little fingers were no longer pink and round now; they
lay just white, so white and small, on the white spread. And Bessie
Bell did not mind how quiet she was told to be, for she was too
tired to want to make any noise at all.

One day it happened that an Only-Just-Lady came and said: ``Sister
Helen Vincula, I want to give you a ticket to carry you away to the
high mountain, and I want you to go to stay a month in my house on
the mountain, and I want you to carry this little sick girl with
you. And when you are there, Sister Helen Vincula, my bread-man
will bring you bread, and my milk-man will bring you milk, and my