heard her moaning, and that was all. A few moments afterwards Madeleine had come up and whispered to Marie Renaud, Marie Renaud had put on her dress, and I heard her go downstairs; Directly afterwards she came back with M. le Cure. He rushed into Sister Marie-Aimee's room, and Madeleine closed the door behind him. He did not remain very long, but he went away again much more slowly than he had come. He walked with his head sunk down between his shoulders, and his right hand was holding his cloak over his left arm, as though he were carrying something valuable. I thought to myself that he was taking away the holy oils, and I did not dare ask whether Sister Marie-Aimee were dead. I have never forgotten the blow I got from Madeleine's fist when I clung to her dress. She knocked me right over and whispered, as she ran past, "She is better." As soon as Sister Marie-Aimee was well again, Madeleine was kinder, and everything went on as before. I disliked sewing as much as ever, and my hatred for it began to make Sister Marie-Aimee uneasy. She mentioned it in front of me to M. le Cure's sister. M. le Cure's sister was an old maid with a long face and big faded eyes. We called her Mademoiselle Maximilienne. Sister Marie-Aimee told her how anxious she was about my future. She said that I learned things easily, but that no kind of sewing interested me. She had noticed for some time that I was fond of study, and she had made inquiries to find out whether I had no distant relatives who would look after me, she said. But the only relation I had was an old woman who had adopted my sister, but refused to take me. Mademoiselle Maximilienne offered to take me into her dressmaking business. M. le Cure thought that was a very good idea, and said that he would be pleased to go and teach me a little, twice a week. Sister Marie-Aimee seemed really happy at this. She did not know what to say to thank them. It was agreed that I should go to Mademoiselle Maximilienne as soon as M. le Cure returned from a journey to Rome, which he had to make. Sister Marie-Aimee would get my outfit ready for me, and Mademoiselle Maximilienne would go to the Mother Superior and ask her permission, she said. I felt dreadfully uncomfortable at the idea that the Mother Superior was to have anything to do with it. I could not forget the unkind look she always gave me when she passed the old bench and saw me sitting there with Sister Marie-Aimee and M. le Cure. So I waited impatiently to hear what she would say to Mademoiselle Maximilienne. M. le Cure had been away for a week, and Sister Marie-Aimee used to talk to me every day about my new work. She told me how glad she would be to see me on Sundays. She gave me all kinds of good advice, told me to be good and to take care of my health. The Mother Superior sent for me one morning. When I went into her room I noticed that she was sitting in a big red armchair. I began to