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Marie Claire

Creator: Audoux, Marguerite
Translator: Raphael, John N.
Contributor: -
Editor: -


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that handkerchief! It was a perfect nightmare! I used to lose one regularly every week. Sister Marie-Aimee gave us a clean pocket-handkerchief in return for the dirty one which we had to throw down on to the ground in front of her. I never thought of mine till the last moment. And then I turned out all my pockets, I ran about like a mad thing into the dormitory, up and down the passages, and up to the garret hunting for it everywhere. Oh dear, oh dear! if I could only find a handkerchief somewhere! As I passed in front of the picture of the Virgin, I would put my hands together and pray fervently, "Admirable Mother, make me find a handkerchief." But I never did find one, and I went downstairs again red in the face, out of breath, feeling dreadfully unhappy, and not daring to take the clean handkerchief which Sister Marie-Aimee handed to me. Before she spoke, I could hear the scolding which I knew I deserved. And even when Sister Marie-Aimee said nothing at all, I could see her frown, and her eyes looked crossly at me and followed me about. I felt crushed with shame, so crushed that I could scarcely lift my feet. I tried to hide in the corners as I walked; and, in spite of it all, next time I had lost my handkerchief again. Madeleine used to look at me with sham compassion. But she could not always prevent herself from telling me that I deserved to be punished severely. She seemed very fond of Sister Marie-Aimee. She waited on her always, and she would burst into tears at her slightest word. Then Sister Marie-Aimee had to soothe her by patting her cheeks, and she would laugh and cry at the same time, and move her shoulders about, showing her white neck. Bonne Neron used
The Shadow of the North A Story of Old New York and a Lost Campaign

CHAPTER I THE ONONDAGA Tayoga, of the Clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the great League of the Hodenosaunee, advanced with utmost caution through a forest, so thick with undergrowth that it hid all objects twenty yards away. He was not armed with a rifle, but carried instead a heavy bow, while a quiver full of arrows hung over his shoulder. He wore less clothing than when he was in the white man's school at Albany, his arms and shoulders being bare, though not painted. The young Indian's aspect, too, had changed. The great struggle between English and French, drawing with it the whole North American wilderness, had begun and, although the fifty sachems still sought to hold the Six Nations neutral, many of their bravest warriors were already serving with the Americans and English, ranging the forest as scouts and guides and skirmishers, bringing to the campaign an unrivaled skill, and a faith sealed by the long alliance.
to say that she looked like a cat. Bonne Neron left one day after a scene in the middle of luncheon. It happened during a dead silence. All of a sudden she shouted out, "Yes; I want to go, and I am going!" Sister Marie-Aimee looked at her in astonishment, and Bonne Neron 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. Before she went out of the room she threw one of her long arms out at Sister Marie-Aimee, and shrieked, "She isn't even twenty-five!" Some of the little girls were frightened, others burst out laughing. Madeleine got quite hysterical. She threw herself on to the floor at Sister Marie-Aimee's knees, kissing her dress, and winding her arms round her legs. She got hold of her two hands and mumbled over them with her big, moist mouth, screaming all the time as though some terrible catastrophe had happened. Sister Marie-Aimee could not shake her off. At last she got angry. Then Madeleine fainted, and fell on her back. As she was undoing her Sister Marie-Aimee made a sign towards the part of the room where I was. I thought she wanted me, and ran to her; but she sent me back again, "No; not you. Marie Renaud," she said. She gave her keys to Marie, and, although she had never been in Sister Marie-Aimee's room, she found the bottle of salts which Sister Marie-Aimee wanted