at I had made a mistake because of the shadow of the
chestnut tree. I was so surprised that I could not find anything to
say. I did not know how to explain it. Sister Marie-Aimee shook me.
"Why did you tell a lie?" she said. I answered that I did not know.
She sent me into a corner in the shed, and told me that I should have
nothing but bread and water that day. As I had not told a lie, the
punishment did not worry me. The shed had a lot of old cupboards in
it, and some garden tools. I climbed from one thing on to the other,
and got right up and sat on the top of the highest cupboard. I was ten
years old, and it was the first time that I had ever been alone. I
felt pleased at this. I sat there, swinging my legs, and began to
imagine a whole invisible world. The old cupboard with rusty locks
became the entrance gate to a magnificent palace. I was a little girl
who had been left on the top of a mountain. A beautiful lady dressed
like a fairy had seen me up there, and came to fetch me. Three or four
lovely ducks ran in front of her. They had just come up to me when I
saw Sister Marie-Aimee standing in front of the cupboard with the rusty
locks and looking about for me everywhere. I did not know that I was
sitting on the cupboard. I still believed myself to be on the top of
the mountain, and I felt cross because Sister Marie-Aimee's arrival had
made the palace and the lovely lady disappear. She saw my legs
swinging, and just as she saw me I remembered that I was sitting on the
cupboard. She stood there for a moment looking up at me. Then she
took a piece of bread, a piece of sausage, and a little bottle of wine
out of the pocket of her dress, showed me one thing after the other,
and in an angry voice said, "This _was_ for you. There!" And she put
it all back into her pocket and went away. A moment afterwards
Madeleine brought me some bread and water, and I remained in the shed
till evening.

Sister Marie-Aimee had been growing sadder and sadder for some time.
She never played with us any more, and she even used to forget our
dinner time. Madeleine would send me to the chapel to fetch her, and I
would find her there on her knees with her face hidden in her hands. I
had to pull at her dress before she took any notice of me. Often I
thought that she had been crying, but I never dared to look at her
closely for fear she would get angry. She seemed lost in thought, and
when we spoke to her, she a