that of a sister of charity.

"Ah! my dear," she hastily said to Raymonde, "don't pity your mother for
being so much taken up with her patients. She, at all events, has
something to occupy her." And addressing herself to Madame de Jonquiere,
she added: "If you only knew how long we find the time in our fine
first-class carriage. We cannot even occupy ourselves with a little
needlework, as it is forbidden. I asked for a place with the patients,
but all were already distributed, so that my only resource will be to try
to sleep tonight."

She began to laugh, and then resumed: "Yes, Madame Volmar, we will try to
sleep, won't we, since talking seems to tire you?" Madame Volmar, who
looked over thirty, was very dark, with a long face and delicate but
drawn features. Her magnificent eyes shone out like brasiers, though
every now and then a cloud seemed to veil and extinguish them. At the
first glance she did not appear beautiful, but as you gazed at her she
became more and more perturbing, till she conquered you and inspired you
with passionate admiration. It should be said though that she shrank from
all self-assertion, comporting herself with much modesty, ever keeping in
the background, striving to hide her lustre, invariably clad in black and
unadorned by a single jewel, although she was the wife of a Parisian
diamond-merchant.

"Oh! for my part," she murmured, "as long as I am not hustled too much I
am well pleased."

She had been to Lourdes as an auxiliary lady-helper already on two
occasions, though but little had been seen of her there--at the hospital
of Our Lady of Dolours--as, on arriving, she had been overcome by such