we had to be very busy, preparing a little food to take to
them, and feeding the others. La Clairiere is a little country house,
not a great chateau, and it was taxed to the utmost to afford some
covert to the people. The children were all sheltered and cared for; but
as for the rest of us we did as we could. And how gay they were, all the
little ones! What was it to them all that had happened? It was a fete
for them to be in the country, to be so many together, to run in the
fields and the gardens. Sometimes their laughter and their happiness
were more than we could bear. Agathe de Bois-Sombre, who takes life
hardly, who is more easily deranged than I, was one who was much
disturbed by this. But was it not to preserve the children that we were
commanded to go to La Clairiere? Some of the women also were not easy to
bear with. When they were put into our rooms they too found it a fete,
and sat down among the children, and ate and drank, and forgot what it
was; what awful reason had driven us out of our homes. These were not,
oh let no one think so! the majority; but there were some, it cannot be
denied; and it was difficult for me to calm down Bonne Maman, and keep
her from sending them away with their babes. 'But they are
_miserables_,' she said. 'If they were to wander and be lost, if they
were to suffer as thou sayest, where would be the harm? I have no
patience with the idle, with those who impose upon thee.' It is possible
that Bonne Maman was right--but what then? 'Preserve the children and
the sick,' was the mission that had been given to me. My own room was
made the hospital. Nor did this please Bonne Maman. She bid me if I did
not stay in it myself to give it to the Bois-Sombres, to some who
deserved it. But is it not they who need most who deserve most? Bonne
Maman cannot bear that the poor and wretched should live in her Martin's
chamber. He is my Martin no less. But to give it up to our Lord is not
that to sanctify it? There are who have put Him into their own bed when
they imagined they were but sheltering a sick beggar there; that He
should have the best was sweet to me: and could not I pray all the
better that our Martin should be enlightened, should come to the true
sanctuary? When I said this Bonne Maman wept. It was the grief of her
heart that Martin thought otherwise than as we do. Nevertheless she
said, 'He is so good; the _bon Dieu_ knows how good he is;' as if even
his mother could know that so well