in a hurry?" he said. "Be easy, there is grace enough in heaven for you
all."

"I am dying of love, Father," she murmured in reply. "My heart is so
swollen with prayers, it stifles me--"

He was greatly touched by the passion of this poor emaciated child, so
harshly stricken in her youth and beauty, and wishing to appease her, he
called her attention to Madame Vetu, who did not move, though with her
eyes wide open she stared at all who passed.

"Look at madame, how quiet she is!" he said. "She is meditating, and she
does right to place herself in God's hands, like a little child."

However, in a scarcely audible voice, a mere breath, Madame Vetu
stammered: "Oh! I am suffering, I am suffering."

At last, at a quarter to eight o'clock, Madame de Jonquiere warned her
charges that they would do well to prepare themselves. She herself,
assisted by Sister Hyacinthe and Madame Desagneaux, buttoned several
dresses, and put shoes on impotent feet. It was a real toilette, for they
all desired to appear to the greatest advantage before the Blessed
Virgin. A large number had sufficient sense of delicacy to wash their
hands. Others unpacked their parcels, and put on clean linen. On her
side, Elise Rouquet had ended by discovering a little pocket-glass in the
hands of a woman near her, a huge, dropsical creature, who was very
coquettish; and having borrowed it, she leant it against the bolster, and
then, with infinite care, began to fasten her fichu as elegantly as
possible about her head, in order to hide her distorted features.
Meanwhile, erect in front of her, little Sophie watched her with an air