e. I reproached her, the poor, good Marie, in
saying that she was the plainer, that she had no beauty, that she was
devoured with envy. But the Blessed Virgin was working ever by her side.
Whatever doubts you may have entertained of me, Monsieur,--she created
them; whatever suspicions tortured you,--she fed them, but always with
the holiest of motives. And when shame came, as it did come, the poor
Marie would have screened me,--would have carried the odium herself.
Good Marie! the angels have her in keeping!

"Listen again, Monsieur! When that story, that false story, of the death
of my poor child, came to light in the journals, who but Marie should
come to me--deceived herself as I was deceived--and say, 'Julie, dear
one, God has taken the child in mercy; there is no stigma can rest upon
you in the eyes of the world. Live now as the Blessed Magdalen lived
when Christ had befriended her.' And by her strength I was made strong;
the Blessed Virgin be thanked!

"Finally, it came to her knowledge one day,--the dear Marie!--that the
rumor of the death was untrue,--that the babe was living,--that the poor
child had been sent over the seas to your home, Monsieur. Well, I was
far away in the East. Does Marie tell me? No, the dear one! She writes
me, that she is going 'over seas,'--tired of _la belle France_,--she who
loved it so dearly! And she went,--to watch, to pray, to console. And I,
the mother!--_Mon Dieu, Monsieur_, the words fail me. No wonder our
child loved her; no wonder she seems a mother to her!

"Listen yet again, Monsieur. My poor sister died yonder, in that
heretical land,--may be without absolution.

'Ave Martha margarita
In corona Jesu sita,
Tam in morte quam in vita
Sis nobis propitia!'

I must go, if it be only to find her grave, and to secure her burial in
some consecrated spot. She waits for me,--her ghost, her spirit,--I must
go; the holy water must be sprinkled; the priestly rites be said. Marie,
poor Marie, I will not fail you.

"Monsieur, I must go!--not alone to greet our child, but to do justice
to my sainted sister! Listen well! All that has been devotional in my
poor life centres here! I must go,--I must do what I may to hallow my
poor sister's grave. Adele will not give up her welcome surely, if I am
moved by such religious purpose. She, too, must join me in an _Ave
Maria_ over that resting-place of the departed.

"I shall send this letter by the overland and British mail,