b 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 California State Library 
 
 ^H 
 
 / 
 
 SKC. 15. Books may be taken from the Library by the 
 members of the Legislature ami its officers during the 
 session ot'lhe same, and at any time by the Governor and 
 the officers of the Executive Department of this State, 
 who are required to keep their offices at the seat of 
 ^overmen!, the Jus) ices of the Supreme Court, the At 
 torney-General and the Trustees of the Library
 
 AND NEW EDITIONS, 
 BY THE 
 
 AUTHOR OF "RTJTLEDGE.' 
 
 1. EUTLEDGE. 
 
 2. THE SUTHEELANDS. 
 
 3. LOUIE'S LAST TERM. 
 
 4. FRANK WAEEINGTON. 
 
 5. ST. PHILIPS. 
 
 6. EOUNDHEAETS. 
 
 7. BICHAED VANDEEMAKCK. 
 
 8. A PEEPECT ADONIS. (Just Ready.) 
 
 "The Stories by the author of 'Eutledge' are told with 
 real dramatic power, and a genuine dramatic 
 pathos, which combine to make them 
 universally read with thorough 
 satisfaction and plea 
 sure." 
 
 All Issued uniform with this volume. Price 1.50 each, 
 and sent free by mail, on receptof price, 
 
 BT 
 
 G. W. CARLETON & CO., Publishers. 
 New York.
 
 A STORY -FOH GIRLS 
 
 WITH AN EDITORIAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 " Rutledge? " Louie! s Last Term at St 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 Carleton & Co., Publishers, 
 
 LONDON: LOW & CO. 
 MDCCCLXXV.
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1875, BY 
 G. W. CARLETON & CO. 
 
 JOHN F. TROW & SON, 
 
 STEREOTYPERS AND PRINTERS, 
 
 205-213 Knst i2t/i Street, 
 NEW YORK.
 
 fS 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 I. MARGUERITE IN FRANCE 11 
 
 II. MARGUERITE AT SEA 139 
 
 III. MARGUERITE AT BOURBON.. 213 
 
 tf
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the many reasons which, have influenced 
 those who have been interested in the repro 
 duction of this little book, may be mentioned the 
 following : 
 
 First, the story has seemed a singularly fine illustration 
 of development of character. But too often in books, char 
 acters stand still. We have them in this stage of develop 
 ment, or in that ; good photographs. But here, little 
 Marguerite grows before our eyes from a passionate, 
 every-day child to a thoughtful, self-controlled, devout 
 young soul, whom all might emulate. 
 
 Secondly, it contains so easy and unintentional a picture 
 of French life and customs. It is so pleasant a way of 
 teaching a child, how French children live, and in how 
 small a part of the world his or her nursery rules prevail. 
 The sea voyage and the life in the tropics, without appar 
 ent effort at instruction, give so much and such excellent 
 instruction. 
 
 And thirdly, there is a tone of high breeding and refine 
 ment in the story, that is perhaps the least easy of all
 
 b INTRODUCTION. 
 
 things to define, and yet which is something we could wish 
 more often graced the books we put before our children. 
 It is not enough that a book has no coarseness of senti 
 ment ; it should have a flavor of good breeding, an aroma 
 of culture, if we wish it to help our children to good 
 manners and the graces of life. 
 
 .One pauses with a little awe before putting a book into 
 the eager young hands stretched out for it. How great its 
 influence may be. Before you have well thought it over, 
 it may be assimilated and a part of your child's very being. 
 It was with a thought of those " who watch as they that 
 must give account," that this has been prepared. And 
 it is offered in the strong hope that it may do a beneficent 
 office to some mother's heart. Some one, perhaps, reading 
 it with watchful eyes, lest a poisonous flower should 
 reach her child's hands unawaresj may find in its deep 
 teaching renewed assurance of an already precious faith, 
 or a development of principles, which, if unfamiliar, may 
 be to her as a gate of hope. 
 
 What a watch it is, from the day in which the mother 
 first lifts her heart towards God and implores that He 
 " bless this child also," unto the day when the babe, grown 
 into full womanhood, goes forth from her fathers home, 
 
 to become in her turn a watcher also ! What discourao-e- 
 
 o 
 
 ment comes over her as, one by one, the dreary number of 
 the Deadly Seven is told before her eyes, and she sees that 
 not one root is wanting from, which to look for the sad 
 fruit. How hotly anger kindles in the baby eyes, how 
 fiercely are the soft fingers clenched, how madly is the toy 
 dashed to the ground, before one articulate word can give 
 utterance to the passion. How soon does the little brow 
 cloud with envy, if it be but of a mother's svnile or a 
 father's caress. How incessantly the coveted possession
 
 INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 of brother or sister causes heart-burnings and strife ; in 
 how many nurseries is the constant desire for what has 
 been seen elsewhere a weariness and pain. How early 
 does the dainty promised mouthful become a source of 
 influence. AVith what marvellous celerity do pride of 
 birth and station, and vanity, growing with the food of 
 fine clothes and pretty looks, show their power. How 
 soon, when industry is matter of obedience, and for a dis 
 tasteful object, does sloth appear. And with the inevi 
 table knowledge of good and evil, how soon is the list 
 completed! Here stands the "old Adam" perfected. 
 With what a cry, day and night, do faithful mothers 
 entreat the mercy of God for their little ones ; how do 
 they compass sea and land to build about their children 
 a defense on the right hand and on the left against the 
 enemy. 
 
 This little story is that of a successful combat. It is 
 the story of our dear Lord's life in the soul of a child. It 
 would woo all the grave sisterhood of those who walk 
 forward, clasping little hands in theirs, to see the ever 
 new miracle of the indwelling Christ driving the Evil One 
 from a human heart. We stand in speechless awe and 
 thankfulness at the manger of Bethlehem, in vain striving 
 to realize the wonder of an incarnate God ; looking down 
 upon our children we might see an ever new incarnation, 
 the divine growth of the Lord JESUS in the heart. 
 
 This story shows the wonder-working of faith and 
 obedience. It is the demonstration of the Catholic faith ; 
 not Eoman faith though happily we see here that Rome 
 teaches it to her children but the true and only faith 
 taught by the Master Himself, the heritage of His little 
 ones. 
 
 It is the setting forth of the actual result of faithful
 
 8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 obedience and obedient faith. No. waiting for some pos 
 sible harvest at the end of life. No doubtful hope that 
 the precious soul may one day be accepted at the hands 
 of JESUS. It is the exhibition, in this child's life, of what 
 it means to become a real, yet unconscious member of 
 Christ ; of what a verity it is to be born again of water 
 and the Holy Ghost; of how the "old Adam" being 
 dead and buried under the still depths of the holy water, 
 the new man grows apace in the heart of the child in 
 corporated into Him. How, lead and taught by believing, 
 humble guidance, it begins early to tread down Satan 
 under foot, and breathe forth in every act the Spirit of 
 Holy Peace, showing the cross-mark in every thought, 
 " as wine tastes of its own grapes," through unity of sub 
 stance. 
 
 The act being of faith, and the life being of faith, it is 
 the manifestation, according to Him who cannot err, and 
 according to that witness who is " the pillar and ground 
 of the truth," of what must be the result: " that which is 
 born of the Spirit, is spirit." 
 
 Under the influence of the . " Sacrament of Promise," 
 as it has been called the white dove of the regenerating 
 Spirit, hovering and brooding over the young heart it ex 
 pands into readiness for the " Sacrament of Realization," 
 and the child we have learned to love is left at the opening 
 of her woman's life armed indeed, for hers is the armor 
 of the Holy Grhost, and fearless for her journey, since the 
 " new wine and the corn " are her food ; and she may speak 
 to Him whose insignia she has worn from her birth, for she 
 bears Him in her heart. 
 
 If one who has thought differently, or not at all, on this 
 subject should be moved by this little book to look upon 
 the sacramental life in her child's soul as more real that!
 
 INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 the perishing life of its body ; if one mother should 
 through it be constrained to declare to her little one its 
 inheritance, and to accept our Lord's own words as He 
 spake them, casting aside the torturing interpretation of 
 man, the humble little messenger will be blessed indeed. 
 
 M. C. H. 
 
 NEW YORK. October 11, 1875.
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE.
 
 MARGUERITE'S JOURNAL. 
 
 PARIS, October 7th, 18 . Tuesday. 
 AM ten years old to-day ! Mamma has kissed me 
 more affectionately than usual. Papa gave me a 
 beautiful five-franc piece quite new and he 
 too kissed me kindly. I am so happy ! My little sisters, 
 and Gustave also, came to offer me kisses, while, laughing 
 and bowing, they saluted me as a great personage, who 
 would certainly not tease them any more. However, it is 
 they who usually tease me, at least Gustave. But I did 
 not want to get angry so soon after papa and mamma 
 had embraced me, so I laughed too, and told them that I 
 really felt I was getting very large, and I hoped the 
 little ones would respect me, and Gustave too. It is true 
 that I do feel larger to-day, and that seems so funny to 
 me, for the feeling came quite suddenly after I had been 
 talking to Mademoiselle. Her manner was so grave, and 
 she was so good in trying to make me understand things. 
 I am going to write down our conversation, for she advised 
 me to trv and remember alwavs what she said. She still 
 
 / i/ 
 
 held me in her arms to-day, after I had given her my 
 " Good-morning " kiss, and said to me : 
 
 " Well, Marguerite, and now you are ten years old ! You 
 have long wished for this day to come. What impression 
 does it make upon you ? " 
 ' I .replied at once, for I always tell her just what I think :
 
 14 MAEGUERITE IN FKANCE. 
 
 " Oh, I am so happy, for I shall have a holiday ! Mamma, 
 and you have promised it to me, and I shall enjoy it so 
 much ! Then I shall have a present, everybody will pet 
 me, and that is very pleasant ! " " That is all true, my 
 child," replied Mademoiselle. " But have you no other 
 thoughts? You are ten years old now, Marguerite. I 
 think now you can understand me if I speak more seri 
 ously to you than I have done as yet." " Yes, indeed, 
 Mademoiselle ! " I cried. " Listen to me, then, attentively. 
 
 / / */ 
 
 Ten years have passed, my dear child, during which God 
 has given you life, and to-day He begins for you a new 
 year. You have been overwhelmed by His benefits ever 
 since you were born. He has protected you unceasingly, 
 and has preserved your dear parents, your brothers and 
 sisters. He has surrounded you with kind and tender 
 friends." " Ah, yes ! " I cried, " JTe has given me you." 
 Mademoiselle kissed me while she continued : " Yes, my 
 child, He has given me to you, and you know how much I 
 love you. Well, then, for all these gifts which He has made 
 you, for the tenderness with which He has watched over 
 you, what return have you made ? Tell me, Marguerite, 
 h,ave you done anything for Him ? " I dropped my head 
 and I think I grew very red, but I said softly, " I was too 
 little." "How, then," said Mademoiselle, " have you found 
 means, little as you are, of offending God seriously ? " She 
 waited for an answer, but as I said nothing she continued : 
 .. " You know it, Marguerite ; your conscience tells you of it. 
 You have already committed many sins. You are too 
 quick-tempered and are often angry. It is true that God 
 has given you a good heart and enough intelligence to 
 understand the language of reason, but too often you fol 
 low only your bad inclinations, and you do almost always 
 what is wrong, instead of what is right. It is so with
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 15 
 
 your behavior to Gustavo, for although you love him dearly, 
 you are always quarrelling with him, and at such moments 
 you are so violent that afterwards you are thoroughly 
 ashamed of yourself." " But, Mademoiselle," I cried, " you 
 know that it is always he who begins." " No, not always, 
 my child ; but admitting that he is wrong, is that a reason 
 why you should be so ? If he offends God, do you wish to 
 offend Him also ? Besides, will you tell me that your sweet 
 little sister Stephanie teases and troubles you? Is not she 
 always ready to do whatever pleases you ? And yet do 
 you not constantly get angry with her ? Is it not the same 
 thing with dear little Berthe, who is only four years old ? 
 Have you not even once or twice' stamped yorfr feet, and 
 grown red with anger, because Baby cried when you tried 
 to amuse him? Were you then more reasonable than 
 he ? " " No, Mademoiselle," I replied, very much ashamed, 
 " but '' " You must see, Marguerite," continued Mademoi 
 selle, " that I only speak to you now of your principal fault. 
 But I do not wish to trouble you to-day, my child. I only 
 want to remind you that what you have left undone before 
 now, you can do in the future, and that now is the time 
 to undertake it. Your tenth birthday should make a mark 
 in your life, and you should try to prove to God your 
 gratitude for His benefits, as well as your repentance for 
 your faults, by resolving firmly to try and conquer your 
 self, and become a better child. From this moment set 
 yourself to the task. Pray, and God will help you. Now 
 go and amuse yourself. This day is yours, although it be- 
 longs first to God ; do not forget that. Remember, too, my 
 child, that this year you take your place in the Catechism 
 Class, to be prepared for your first communion. Oh, my 
 child, tell me, is not this thought alone enough to make yoti 
 earnestly desire to do better?" These words troubled me
 
 16 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 greatly, and I began to cry, but still I was happy, because 
 I had determined to be good and try to correct my faults. 
 The idea of preparing* for my first communion it was 
 that which made me feel that I had grown so much. 
 
 After embracing Mademoiselle, and making her a thou 
 sand promises, I was running away, when she said to me. 
 "Marguerite, I have one favor to ask of you, and as this 
 day belongs to you, it is for you to grant what I wish. In 
 setting aside all your other duties to-day, do not neglect 
 your journal; on the contrary, write it more carefully than 
 usual. You will soon forget all I have said to you, if you 
 do not write it down at once, and it will be well for you 
 to remember it. Tou know how much you gain by this 
 good habit of relating faithfully the history of every day. 
 You like to read it over from time to time, and the more 
 serious thoughts you will find the most interesting. Do not 
 think the time is lost which is spent in writing down what 
 concerns this day especially, and do it conscientiously." 
 I promised, and I think I have succeeded. Besides, I have 
 begged Mademoiselle to read over my journal. It is 
 rather long, although I have written as quickly as possible. 
 But now I am going to play. I trust that with God's 
 help I shall not get angry to-day. I hear Gustave already, 
 w r ho is calling me because I do not hurry enough. I shall 
 take my hoop, which I would not lend him yesterday, and 
 will let him carry it for the walk. . Since I am ten years 
 old I must be more amiable. I am sure that Mademoiselle 
 would say so. 
 
 Wednesday, October ,8th. 
 
 Ah well ! Jhow can I ever count upon my good resolu- 
 tious? I had actually a quarrel with Gustave yesterday 
 my teiith birthday ! To be sure it- was not quite as bad a
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 17 
 
 quarrel as usual ; and then I did not get angry with Ste 
 phanie, nor with Berthe, although they did play wrong in the 
 goose-game. And Gustave did get very angry, and made 
 them both cry ; but I must not write about it, for Made 
 moiselle says I am writing a journal of only my own ac 
 tions. I had, then, a quarrel with Gustave, which was not 
 all my own fault ; but I lost my patience so much that I 
 felt greatly ashamed of myself. One thing that consoled 
 me a little was that I felt so sorry about it, and Mademoi 
 selle said my ten years served at least to make me under 
 stand how wrong I had been. I asked pardon of God, 
 and I kissed Gustave without any ill-temper. What a 
 pity that I lost my temper ! My day would have been 
 otherwise so nice. Mamma took us all in a carriage for a 
 lovely drive in the Bois de Boulogne, for the weather was 
 soft and beautiful. One might almost have thought that 
 the sky was smiling because it was my birthday. Then I 
 went with my maid to see Clara, where I had a very 
 pleasant visit. In the evening I played with Gustave and 
 my little sisters, and it was then that I had this tiresome 
 quarrel. To-day I have begun to work again, and I mean 
 to be very diligent. I had only eight faults in my 
 " dictee," although it was long, and I said my verb well. 
 My exercise in grammar was only tolerably good, but I 
 knew my other lessons, because I went over them this 
 morning as soon as I was dressed. 
 
 Thursday, October Qtk. 
 
 I am not quite dissatisfied with my day yesterday, for I 
 committed no very great faults, although there were 
 some little ones. I began to get angry with Stephanie, 
 but when I saw the tears in her eyes I stopped at once. 
 I only made Berthe cry twice, and mamma thinks I am
 
 18 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 more gentle with Baby. Nurse even called me to come 
 and make him laugh. Little darling, he smiles like a lit 
 tle angel ! Gustave was at college all day, as the term has 
 begun ; that was the reason we had no quarrels. In the 
 evening, he talked with papa and mamma about his 
 studies and his professors, while I sewed with Mademoi 
 selle ; then I read history with her and mamma. I said 
 my prayers earnestly. I learned in the morning my first 
 lesson in the catechism, for in a few days I shall take my 
 seat in the class. I have known for some time the 
 smaller catechism and part of the other ; but yet I feel 
 sure that I shall be frightened when they question me. 
 
 Wednesday, October 15th. 
 
 Yesterday was the great day ! Oh ! how I trernbled-l 
 Mademoiselle took me to the Catechism Class, and mamma 
 went also, which made me doubly happy. My heart beat 
 so hard, and I felt so shy when I had to go forward all 
 alone amongst the other little girls ! I kept looking be 
 hind me to see where mamma and Mademoiselle were, so 
 that I did not see a priest who was beckoning to me to 
 come forward. Then he was kind enough to take my 
 hand, and lead me to a seat. I found myself next to two 
 little girls in deep mourning; it troubled me to look at 
 them. The eldest was so pale, and seerfted very sad. 
 The second was quite rosy, and did not seem to think of 
 her mourning ; but then she was very young. I wanted 
 to speak to them, especially to the eldest, and to know 
 their names, so I listened carefully to the priest who was 
 arranging the children on the benches. When he said 
 " Marie and Jeanne de Laval" they rose to go to the seat 
 he pointed out to them, and I resolved not to forget their
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 19 
 
 names. I was just feeling sorry at being separated from 
 them, when the priest called out " Marguerite Guy on." 
 I got up quickly, and they placed me beside the two little 
 girls. I looked at them and they smiled. I think we shall 
 be good friends. The priest did not ask us any questions 
 to-day, as it took so long to give us our places. But M. 
 1'Abbe Martin, who superintended the class, made us a 
 very nice address. He said, I think, that the class was 
 like a vestibule, which we entered in order to reach the 
 sanctuary that is, the altar where we were to receive our 
 first communion. It was beautiful, but I cannot repeat it 
 well. I prayed more earnestly to God afterwards, and it 
 seemed to me that He would surely bless us all. I joined 
 mamma and Mademoiselle in going out. Marie and 
 Jeanne went away with an old gentleman who seemed to 
 be their grandfather; his beard and hair were quite white. 
 lie gave his arm to Marie, while Jeanne followed them. 
 Everybody looked at them. I do not know why. The 
 priest recommended us to love our companions in the 
 class, which I should not find difficult for these little girls. 
 One thing annoyed me very much, and that was that Gus- 
 tave made fun of me in the evening, when I was telling 
 about it all. He asked if the grandfather did not look 
 like a " mummy." Mademoiselle could not but say that 
 it was very wrong to speak so of an old person, and I told 
 Gustave that it was hardly worth while for him to study 
 history if it were only to teach him how to make rude 
 comparisons. Certainly Gustave is very naughty, but 
 Mademoiselle says I ought not to say so. She reproved 
 Gustave for his bad manners, as I thought, too gently ; but 
 what she said checked him. I was not able to do a great 
 deal yesterday, 011 account of the catechism, and, besides, 
 I have been playing ; but to-morrow I shall do better.
 
 20 MARGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 Thursday, October Wth. 
 
 I worked all day yesterday steadily, for Mademoiselle 
 said so herself ; and my dear mamma kissed me for it. 
 It is strange how happy I am when mamma kisses me as a 
 reward. And when papa looks at me smiling, and says, 
 " Thou art a good girl," it is just as if he had given me a 
 " Cross of Honor " like his own. Yesterday evening he 
 was all dressed in full uniform as captain of a vessel, for 
 he was going to the King. I was proud enough to look 
 at him ! I wonder if the father of Marie and Jeanne had 
 a cross of honor too ? Clara's father has not any, and I 
 said so one day to Clara, when she declared that her 
 mother was richer than mine. We were very angry that 
 day, but since then we have made friends ; and I like 
 Clara very much. She is very nice. Mademoiselle told me, 
 too, that such disputes were very foolish. When papa had 
 gone I saw that mamma seemed very sad, but she would 
 not tell me the reason ; and Mademoiselle called me to 
 read history. I am not sad when I see papa in uniform. 
 Perhaps mamma wanted to go to the Tuileries also, but 
 she has often been there. I will not, however, try to find 
 out why mamma was different from usual yesterday, for 
 that would be showing curiosity. But I do not like to see 
 mamma sad ; it troubles me. 
 
 Friday, October Vlth. 
 
 Papa too has seemed to be preoccupied for several days, 
 but we do not any of us understand it. Mamma and 
 Mademoiselle have constantly such long conversations, and 
 my lessons are interrupted, which is very strange. What 
 can be the matter ? Clara came to see me yesterday, and 
 they let us go out to walk with her maid. We met a poor 
 woman with three little children, but unfortunately I had 
 no money. Clara, who was just going to buy some cakes
 
 MAKGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 21 
 
 for us both, asked me if it would not be better to give the 
 money to the poor woman. I said, " Oh ! much better," and 
 I thought it very good in her. The little children were so 
 happy that we were quite delighted. In the evening at din 
 ner, when I was telling this, my good little Berthe took the 
 biscuit from her mouth to give to the poor woman, although 
 we do not know where she lives, and Stephanie searched 
 for four sous, all her fortune, which she gave to Mademoi 
 selle for these poor people. Gustave made some jests 
 about it ; but he is generous, too, for he gives all he has, 
 and so is often obliged to borrow from me, which does not 
 please me very much, as he does not always pay me back. 
 
 Saturday, October 18t7i. 
 
 Now it is explained why they have been talking so 
 much. How surprised I was, for there have never been 
 any events in my life, and this may certainly be called an 
 event, and a great one too. Papa is appointed Governor 
 of Pondichery, in India, and as he will have to stay several 
 years, we are to go with him. What happiness ! I never 
 expected to know India except through my geography, 
 and it seems astonishing to me to think that I shall see 
 that country, that I shall go myself to Asia. And then 
 Governor, that is a great word ! Gustave declares that 
 over there it is like a king. It is funny to find myself 
 suddenly the daughter of an almost king. Oh ! I shall 
 ask many favors of papa, and I do not think he will be very 
 severe. What will Clara think of all this? But why does 
 mamma cry ? As for me, I am enchanted ! If we were 
 obliged to see papa go away without us, as he has done be 
 fore, I should cry too ; but since mamma will go with him, 
 and take us too, there is nothing but pleasure. To travel with 
 papa for perhaps six months, and at sea, too, when I have
 
 22 MAKGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 always longed to know something of the sea ! To see 
 other countries, new trees, new fruits, the Creoles, and any 
 number of negroes-! I who have never seen any but the 
 little negro boy belonging to Madame Balde ! I am wild 
 with joy, and I do like events so much. Gustave feels as 
 I do, and for the time we are good friends, and we talk to 
 gether of all our plans. Mademoiselle is grave, and yet a 
 voyage need not make one grave. Oh ! if she were not to 
 go ! And I never thought to ask her ! But it is impossible. 
 Could she ever part from us, or we from her ? However, 
 she is not obliged to go, as I am, who follow my father and 
 mother. I must go and ask her at once. I have nothing 
 else to say in my journal, as I hardly worked at all yes 
 terday. 'The whole house was turned upside down, and 
 mamma kept Mademoiselle with her the greater part of 
 the day. To-day it has been the same. 
 
 Sunday, October IQth. 
 
 I cried a great deal yesterday. After closing my 
 journal I went at once to Mademoiselle, to ask her if she 
 was to go with us but I was so afraid lest she should 
 say " No," that, after entering the room, I stood quite still 
 for several moments without speaking only looking at 
 her. Then I rushed away and ran to mamma, who was 
 in her own room, lying on the sofa with a headache, and 
 there I had a long talk with her. How good mamma 
 is ! She talked with me, as she said herself, as if I were 
 fifteen years old. I will try to write down all she said. 
 In the first place mamma thought I looked strangely, 
 so she asked me at once what was the matter. Then 1 
 began to cry, and she drew me close to her, saying that 
 I should only make her head ache worse. I tried to stop, 
 and whispered softly in her ear,
 
 MARGUERITE EST FRANCE. 23 
 
 ""Will Mademoiselle Yalmy go with us?" Mamma 
 smiled, and answered while she kissed me : 
 
 " Certainly. Is that the cause of your great sorrow ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear mamma, for otherwise it was all pleasure." 
 
 " Well, my child," replied mamma, " you need not be 
 uneasy. You know what I should suffer if 1 had to part 
 from Caroline, whom I have loved from childhood. I have 
 already told you many times that we were schoolmates, 
 and always warm friends, although she was younger than 
 myself. I was more fortunate than she in the world, for 
 she lost all her fortune after the death of her parents, 
 and found herself obliged to make use of her education 
 in order to support herself. She went at first as governess 
 into a family where she was not appreciated, and where 
 she was not allowed to guide the children as she desired. 
 But soon afterwards, when your father was about to start 
 again upon a long voyage, as he perceived my sadness and 
 loneliness, he yielded to my entreaties, and allowed me 
 to send for Caroline, to come to me and be at once my 
 companion and the second mother of my children. You 
 can remember, my little Marguerite, how happy you and 
 I have been since that day. Caroline loves us, as we love 
 her, and as no duty keeps her in France, she will follow 
 us wherever we go. Notwithstanding my earnest wish to 
 go with your father, I do not think you would see me so 
 brave if Caroline were not to accompany us." 
 
 "Still, mamma, you are sad. Why is it? You see 
 now that /am happy, since you have reassured me." 
 
 " You are a child, Marguerite, and cannot understand 
 all that disturbs the mind and heart of a mother at the 
 prospect of such a great change. However, my greatest 
 sorrow you would soon share, if you knew the cause of it." 
 
 " Ah ! mamma, you frighten me ! You seem so dis-
 
 24 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 tressed. But you forget if you say I am only a child, 
 that I am ten years old ! I am ten years and twelve days 
 old ! " Mamma smiled, but sadly, and replied : 
 
 " No, I do not forget it, my darling ; and in order to 
 prove that it is so, I am going to open my heart to you, 
 and show you my greatest sorrow. You know that Gus- 
 tave, if he does not always satisfy us by his behavior, 
 makes us very happy as far as his studies are concerned. 
 His masters are delighted with his intelligence and studi 
 ous habits. They say Gustave has great promise, and we 
 rejoice in this, as he is the eldest, who will some day have 
 to protect you and the little ones. "Well, if we interrupt 
 his studies now, we shall do him much harm, for we do 
 not even know if he ca,n resume them in India, as the 
 Creoles all send their sons to France to be educated." 
 
 " But, mamma, take a tutor for him such as Cecile's 
 brother has." 
 
 " Your father does not wish it, and I feel he is right, 
 for Gustave needs emulation, and a firm discipline, which 
 I should not be strong enough to have properly en 
 forced." 
 
 . " Mamma, mamma, what are you going to say ? " 
 Mamma took me in her arms, and laying her cheek 
 against mine, said softly : 
 
 " It will be necessary to leave him in France." I gave 
 a cry as I tore myself from mamma's arms, so that I 
 could look in her face. She was crying. Then I began 
 to cry, too, exclaiming : 
 
 " No, Gustave shall not stay. I will not have it ; 
 mamma, say no. It is true that he teases me, but no 
 matter. I would rather have him tease me always. Poor 
 Gustave ! to leave him here all alone, where he could not 
 see you, or papa, or Baby, whom he loves so dearly ; and
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 25 
 
 he will not have the pleasant voyage ! Mamma, mamma, 
 I beg you to let him come with us." 
 
 u Marguerite, you distress me very, very much," replied 
 mamma ; " do you not think that I suffer even more than 
 you ? " I ran to kiss her while I tried to stop crying. 
 Then she said to me : 
 
 " I talk to you as if you were fifteen years old, and 
 you trouble your mother instead of consoling her." Ah ! 
 how unhappy I was at being so naughty, and when I loved 
 mamma so much, too. I felt angry with myself, and 
 said: 
 
 " Let me go and bring Mademoiselle, my own little 
 mamma. She will know how to comfort you." But 
 mamma took my hand and held me back. 
 
 " Xo, my child, it is you that I want. When a mother 
 is unhappy about one of her children, she can only be 
 comforted by another child." I was much struck by 
 these words. Then in future I shall always be the one 
 co comfort rnamma about poor Gustave. I turned to 
 mamma, but she was so pale, and looked at me with such 
 a sad face, that I did not know what to do, I felt so un 
 happy ; but I climbed upon the sofa beside her, and 
 kissing her over and over again, I said : 
 
 " But think, dear little mamma : you have still other 
 children. You have me, then Stephanie and Berthe, and, 
 last of all, Baby; and you leave only one behind. We 
 will all take such good care of you : at least Baby cannot 
 'just yet, but he will by and by." 
 
 " Ah, my child," exclaimed mamma, " you do not 
 know what fears I have for all of you. The long voyage, 
 that terrible climate God help me ! " She stopped as if 
 she were praying. I longed to go and call Mademoiselle, 
 but I said : 
 2
 
 25 MAKGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 " Oh, mamma. I am sure we shall do very well. See 
 how strong I have grown this year. I love the heat, and 
 Baby does too ; for you know how he laughs whenever 
 he sees the sun. As for Stephanie and Berthe, they are 
 never sick. It is only about Gustave that we need 
 be troubled ; and he will write to us. Yes, I did not 
 think of that : and how happy you will be to get his 
 letters." 
 
 " Yes, my darling ; but we shall not see him and if he 
 were to be ill." 
 
 " But, mamma, will not God be with Gustave, as well as 
 with us ? Mademoiselle always tells me that He is Father 
 to all of us. You would not be troubled to leave Gustave 
 with papa, and. yet papa cannot prevent Gustave from 
 being ill, and God can. We will pray to Him so ear 
 nestly. Listen, good little mamma, instead of crying here 
 together, let us both pray to God, and tell him that we put 
 Gustave in His care. You know when you give me any 
 thing to keep what good care I take of it, and God is so 
 much better than I am." Mamma knelt down, and we 
 prayed together. She did not cry any more ; but after 
 we had finished she took me in her arms, saying : 
 
 " Dear little preacher ! God has taught you how to 
 comfort me, for I really feel better." 
 
 " Well then, mamma, whenever you feel sad, send for 
 me and we will pray together a little ; it makes me so happy 
 to think I can comfort you." Mamma kissed me again, 
 and then sent me to Mademoiselle, saying she would try to 
 sleep. I did not play all day yesterday. I felt like crying 
 in the evening whenever I looked at Gustave. Yet I must 
 not tell him but I think he already begins to have some 
 idea of it. Poor Gustave ! Fortunately I had plenty of 
 time to-day to write this long journal, because it was Sun-
 
 MAKGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 27 
 
 day. I went to Mass this morning. It's is strange how 
 much more earnestly one prays when one is unhappy ! 
 
 Wednesday, October 22d. 
 
 Yesterday Mademoiselle took me to the Catechism Class. 
 I was so glad to see Marie and Jeanne de Laval again, and 
 they too seemed pleased. The priest did not ask us 
 any questions either to-day ; he only gave us the lesson we 
 were to learn. I was not sorry, for although I had gone 
 over the first chapter again, I did not know it well. I have 
 had so much to think of lately ! What good words M. 
 PAbbe Martin said to us. When he spoke of the mothers 
 who would be made so happy by the first communion of 
 their children, Marie burst into tears, and Jeanne whis 
 pered a few words to her with a sad face. Can they have 
 lost their mother ? Ah ! that would be too terrible. Poor 
 little girls, I hardly dared to look at them ! They were 
 very grave all the rest of the time, which suited my feel 
 ings too for I have felt very grave myself since I have 
 been so troubled about Gustave. Until now, the greatest 
 sorrow I ever had was when I broke my beautiful wax 
 doll. Ah ! I reme*mber it as if it had happened yesterday ! 
 Poor Nina! I had put her in my little chair, and was jump 
 ing around the room like a little goose, when suddenly I 
 fell on the chair, upsetting it and myself at the same time. 
 But I thought only of Nina. 1 picked her up at once, but 
 alas ! in the place of her pretty face there was only an 
 enormous hole ! In my horror I stood looking at her my 
 nurse said with my mouth opened as large as the hole 
 and then how I cried ! I shall never forget that day, and I 
 am glad I have written this in my journal as a remem 
 brance of Nina. At that time I was too small to keep a jour 
 nal. I was only seven, and I did not begin my journal un-
 
 28 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 til I was eight years old. How fanny that first journal was ! 
 I just put down : " I got up at 7 o'clock. I played we 
 took breakfast at 11 o'clock ; " then again, " I have read 
 and written a little I went to walk Gustave struck me," 
 or " I struck Gustave." (I am happy to say I do not do so 
 now.) There was nothing very nice, in this first book, ex 
 cept the day when I went to confession for the first time, 
 and then I did not write down how I felt. Oh ! that 
 confession, how well I remember it ! Mademoiselle had re 
 minded me of all my faults and how many I had ! Af 
 ter my examination I did not dare to look at any one, and 
 I should have been afraid of God, too, if Mademoiselle 
 had not told me that that would be another sin, and instead 
 of feeling so, I ought to ask for pardon and be brave. 
 
 When I went into the confessional I was so fright 
 ened that I ran out at once, telling Mademoiselle that I 
 was sure I could not_say a word. And the good cure 
 waited for me all the time without being angry w r ith me. 
 Mademoiselle encouraged me, so, after begging her to sit 
 in a chair quite close to me, I was able to tell everything. 
 I was very glad when I had finished, and felt more easy to 
 listen to M. the cure, who gave me excellent advice, and 
 before I came away I felt much better. Since that day 
 whenever I have been to confession it has always done me 
 good, and I often think of what mamma told me once 
 about a little boy who said to his mother : " Mamma, the 
 confessional is the washbowl of sinners." It is very true, 
 for we wash our conscience there. 
 
 Friday, October 247t. 
 
 I have some terrible things to tell ! I could really, get 
 angry with myself for, being so bad, only that I have been 
 angry too often already. Yesterday I was very naughty.
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 29 
 
 "When I have but little to do, somehow I always get 
 naughty, and yet 1 do not care to work more than I do 
 now. In the morning I had plenty of good marks for my 
 lessons, so in the afternoon, as the weather was beautiful, 
 Mademoiselle allowed me to go for a long walk with my 
 maid and the little ones. As we came in quite late we met 
 Gustave, who comes home from college earlier on Thurs 
 day. As soon as he saw me he began to tease me, because 
 I had torn my dress while I was j umping rope in the gar 
 dens of the Tuileries. This put me out of temper at once, 
 for I was already fretted by the accident. I answered him 
 angrily, and began teasing him about a spot of ink on his 
 shirt. We both grew angry, and, notwithstanding what 
 Josephine said, we went on quarrelling until we came to 
 the staircase. As I went up Gustave wanted to pass me, 
 but I clung to the baluster, and would not let him pass. 
 He tried to make me come down, and in doing so his foot 
 caught in my dress and tore out the whole piece. I got 
 horribly angry. I seized Gustavo's vest and tried to tear 
 it. Gustave squeezed my hands to make me loosen my 
 grasp, but I stooped down and bit his hand so sharply that 
 it brought the tears into his eyes, although he tried hard 
 not to cry. He left me at last, to go and tell Mademoiselle 
 that I was acting like a little fury. This excited me still 
 more ; I stamped my feet, and screamed and cried with 
 rage. Stephanie began to cry, and Berthe to scream. 
 Such an uproar ! But I did not care ; I went on as if I 
 did not know what I was doing. I felt in my heart, how 
 ever, how naughty I was it seemed as if some one were 
 pushing me on. Mamma came in at this moment and 
 tried to quiet me, but in vain ; at last she exclaimed, 
 " What ! is this the little girl to whom I talked the other 
 day as if she were fifteen years old \ " All this did me
 
 30 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 no good ; the more ashamed I felt the more I stamped my 
 feet, for I was really afraid to stop and think of my 
 naughtiness. At last Mademoiselle came. Ah, when I 
 
 O * 
 
 think that she should have seen me in such a state ! She 
 stood looking at me for several minutes without saying a 
 word, which made me very uncomfortable. Mamma had 
 gone, and Mademoiselle had that severe, cold look which 
 always troubles me so much. She said to Gustave : 
 
 " I be; vou to go to vour room." I felt e;lad to hear 
 
 O / * . O 
 
 this, for as long as he was there I knew I could not get 
 good again. Then Mademoiselle said to Josephine : 
 
 " Take the little ones away, that they inky no longer see 
 this sad sight." I was so astonished at these words that I 
 was somewhat checked, but I wanted some one to make 
 me angry again, for I really felt afraid of being quiet. If 
 Mademoiselle had scolded me, I know I should have an 
 swered improperly ; but she only asked, very coldly : 
 
 " Do you wish to remain here, or go to your room ? " I 
 followed her without reply, slamming the doors as hard as 
 I could, to keep up my excitement. She took me to my 
 room, and sat dowp without speaking. I did not know 
 what to do. I took off my hat and flung it on the bed ; it 
 fell to the ground, w r hen I gave it a great kick ; then I 
 tossed my mantilla to the other end of the room. After 
 all this, I stood still, looking out of the window, although 
 in reality I saw only Mademoiselle. At last she said : 
 
 " Has your attack passed ? " 
 
 " What attack ? " I cried, angrily. 
 
 " I see it is not over yet," she replied. " Yery well, 1 
 will leave you ; you will call me when you have recovered." ' 
 She went away slowly. My good angel told me to run 
 after her and beg her pardon, but I was too much ashamed, 
 and besides I had listened too long to the devil within me
 
 MAEGTJEKITE IN FRANCE. 31 
 
 he was still stronger than I was. I fastened my door, 
 and flinging myself on the floor, began to cry as if my 
 heart would break. Stephanie came and called through 
 the door : 
 
 " Do not cry so, Marguerite." But I cried, " Go away ! " 
 and went on crying for at least an hour. All at once I 
 heard the dinner-bell ; this stopped me at once. I ex 
 claimed : 
 
 " What shall I do ? I am not dressed," and I started up 
 to call Josephine, when I thought : 
 
 " How can I go down to dinner? I shall never dare to 
 show myself to them all. Suppose they were to send me 
 away ! What shall I do? " I stopped and did not dare 
 to move. I heard Stephanie and Berthe, who passed laugh 
 ing and singing. Stephanie stopped by my door, and when 
 Berthe called out, " Are you angry now, Maguitte ? " she 
 told her not to speak so to me, and then they went away. 
 What should I do? I would have given up all my pretti 
 est toys, and even my nicest books, not to have been so 
 very naughty. At last I heard some one coming, and I 
 ran to unfasten my door, for it was Mademoiselle ; then I 
 sat down in a corner of my room, feeling glad that it was 
 so dark that no one could see my face. Mademoiselle 
 said : 
 
 u Marguerite, they are going to dinner ; if you think 
 you deserve to come amongst us all, come down : if not, 
 they will bring up your dinner." Then she left me. I un 
 derstood what she meant, and stayed in my room. How 
 ashamed I felt when Fran9ois brought me my dinner and 
 a light ! lie said to me, " Now, now Mamzelle Margue 
 rite, don't mind. It is no great matter when children get 
 angry. You will outgrow it." I felt more ashamed still, 
 and said nothing. What a miserable evening it. was !
 
 32 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 They only let Stephanie come to kiss me, as she had never 
 gone to sleep without doing so, but neither mamma nor 
 Mademoiselle came to bid me good-night. I am sure that 
 was the reason I slept badly. And when I said my praye; * 
 and made my examination for the day which made me 
 look back I begged God to pardon me, but I fear lie 
 will not. Ah, suppose I had died that night ! This morn 
 ing Mademoiselle sent me word to stay in my room and 
 write my journal very conscientiously, until she came to 
 see me. I want to see her, and yet I feel afraid. 
 
 /Saturday, October 25th. 
 
 It is very unfortunate that Mademoiselle makes such a 
 point of my writing my journal, for now that I have to 
 tell of so many faults I am obliged to write 'volumes. I 
 want to remember, too, what Mademoiselle says to me when 
 she corrects me, and I have asked her to look over my 
 journal sometimes, to see if I have written it properly. 
 
 To think of my being in a rage at ten years old ! I am 
 too ashamed ! Yesterday morning, just as I was wiping 
 my pen after finishing my journal, Mademoiselle came in. 
 I got up, but did not dare to run and kiss her as usual. 
 She came to me and said : 
 
 " Are you Marguerite again to-day ? " Then she took 
 my hands, and sitting down, drew me towards her. 
 
 " Poor child," she said, " poor little Marguerite, how un 
 happy you are ! " It was true enough, and I began to sob. 
 Mademoiselle continued : " So in one moment you knocked 
 down and destroyed the beautiful building you had made 
 of your good resolutions ! Nothing remains ; the gust of 
 anger has carried everything away your mother, whom 
 you* love Gustave, from whom you are soon to be sepa 
 rated but above all, God, whom you are preparing to
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 33 
 
 approach at your first communion. Nothing could stop 
 you ; you have pained your mother, irritated Gustave, 
 shocked your little sisters and the servants, and sadly sur 
 prised and troubled me. Ah, Marguerite, this is very sad! 
 You seemed tohavelost your reason too, for I need hardly 
 ask you, Marguerite, if it was a reasonable being that I saw 
 yesterday a little girl with flashing eyes, clenched fists, 
 and angry brow, who was threatening all who approached 
 her ! Ah, Marguerite, the remembrance of that sad sight 
 was with me all through the night. Yes, you cry, as in 
 deed you should, but I, my child, weep for you when I ask 
 what will be your future life, if you do not restrain the 
 violence of your temper." 
 
 To think that Mademoiselle should cry for such a 
 naughty girl as I am ! I hid my face in her lap, and kiss 
 ing her hands, cried : 
 
 " Forgive me ! forgive me ! " 
 
 " You must first ask God to pardon you, my child. If 
 you are distressed, as I see you are, at having troubled me. 
 because you know how much I love you, how must you 
 feel before God, who loves you so much better, and has 
 bestowed on you so many blessings?" 
 
 " I have asked Him to pardon me, Mademoiselle," I 
 sobbed ; " but I am afraid He will not." 
 
 " Yes, my child, He will, He always will, for He is good 
 ness itself. But you must not abuse His goodness." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, I know I am very naughty, but why did 
 Gustave tear my dress ? " 
 
 " Marguerite, I do not wish to hear the history of this 
 shameful quarrel ; nothing could excuse the anger in which 
 I found you. But admitting that Gustave was in the 
 wrong and he has acknowledged it to me tell me 
 frankly, did that justify you ? " 
 2*
 
 34 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 I said " No," very softly, and Mademoiselle continued : 
 
 " If you had replied gaily to Gustave when he began to 
 tease you, as I have always advised you to do if you had 
 spoken in a pleasant tone instead .of getting angry at once, 
 would it not have ended the dispute ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle ; but I did not feel like joking, be 
 cause I had torn my dress during the walk." 
 
 " Then by your own account you were out of temper be 
 fore Gustave spoke to you. The first wrong was not from 
 him." 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle, for if he had not teased me, I should 
 not have been so angry." 
 
 " I do not know that, Marguerite. Suppose Stephanie 
 had put her foot on your dress by accident, or Berthe had 
 pulled it in playing, feeling as you did, would you not 
 have fallen into exactly the same rage ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Listen to. me, my child. You are little and weak, but 
 God knows it, and will always strengthen and help you. 
 Have you not often felt that He helped you when you 
 called upon Him ? Every time that you have subdued 
 your impatience, or avoided a quarrel, was it not because 
 God helped you ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle, because of myself I am always 
 naughty. Mademoiselle, I will tell you the whole truth, 
 although I feel so much ashamed." 
 
 " Speak, my child," Mademoiselle said, very kindly. 
 
 " Well, then, God was helping me all the time that I 
 v/as so angry, although I did not ask Him and diM not 
 want His help. In the midst of my fury I felt something 
 telling me how naughty I was. You see, it was my con 
 science speaking to me, as you have so often told me. 
 Well, I only cried harder every time I heard this voice, for
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 35 
 
 I would not listen to it. Oh, Mademoiselle, I am so sorry 
 now, for I have been so unmindful of God's voice." 
 
 " I have already told you, Marguerite, what you must do. 
 Fou must ask God to pardon you, and furthermore you 
 must strive to make amends for this anger of which you 
 are now so ashamed, by trying in future to be patient, 
 gentle, and kind towards others." 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle, but it is so difficult." 
 
 " God will help you." 
 
 " And you too \ Tell me at once what I ought to do." 
 
 " Go then, my child, and kiss your dear mother whom 
 you have distressed so much. Make to her the same 
 promises you have made to me. Then, in speaking to 
 Stephanie and Berthe, try to make them understand how 
 sorry you are that you set them so bad an example." 
 
 " Oh, Mademoiselle ! " 
 
 " Yon ought to do it, Marguerite, otherwise these chil 
 dren will remember only your naughtiness. They ought 
 to see that you are trying to do better." 
 
 I could hardly raise my eyes. Mademoiselle then said 
 to me: 
 
 " As to Gustavo, he is now in college, but this evening 
 I trust you will meet each other affectionately, and both 
 offer excuses. Gustave is already inclined to do so." 
 
 u And I am, too, but I am so ashamed ! " 
 
 " That is natural, my child ; but this is your first punish 
 ment, so try to accept it." 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle ; only kiss me. I am going to be so 
 good. Look at me with the face you have every day." 
 
 Mademoiselle kissed me fondly, which comforted me a 
 little. Iran to my dear mother, who pardoned me at 
 once ; but my conscience still troubles me. Mademoiselle 
 says I shall feel more at ease after I have been good and
 
 00 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 gentle for some time. I trust it may be so. I said to 
 Stephanie and Bcrthe as I kissed them : 
 
 " I was very naughty yesterday ; do not act as I did." 
 Stephanie replied : 
 
 " Oh no, that makes every one too unhappy." These 
 words struck me like a knife. As to that wicked little 
 Berthe, she laughed, and began to cry and stamp her feet, 
 saying : " See, this is the way you did yesterday." It 
 was very difficult not to get angry, but I did not speak. I 
 am afraid that Berthe may be like me some day, for she is 
 too quick-tempered. Stephanie is like mamma. Gustave 
 was very kind to me in the evening. He said : 
 
 " You see, we were both naughty yesterday, so do not be 
 too unhappy about it." But I said I had been worse than 
 he, for he was half in play and I not at all. I am very 
 glad this day is done. 
 
 Monday, October 27th. 
 
 My day on Saturday was not bad. Mademoiselle thought 
 that I was more patient. Yesterday I went to High Mass 
 with mamma, Mademoiselle, and Gustave. I am so happy 
 when papa goes to church with us. Unfortunately it does 
 not often happen, for he is so busy. But they say that Sun 
 day is the day of rest, the Lord's day. Why, then, does papa 
 have so much to do ? But he came with us yesterday, so I 
 was very happy, and mamma too, I think. After coining 
 from Mass I played with the little ones and Gustave. I 
 was just going to be angry, when, happily, Mademoifelle 
 came to talk to me about making Sunday holy, and I 
 thought a quarrel would not do so. And besides there 
 were all my promises to God. What annoys me very much 
 is, that whenever I try to stop my impatience, Gustave 
 begins to laugh, and cries, " Victory, victory ! " It is a vie-
 
 MAKGTJEKTTE IN FRANCE. 37 
 
 tory, to be sure, for Mademoiselle herself said so, but I do 
 not like Gustave to say anything about it. We took a 
 very pleasant drive, and in the evening I showed Bertlie 
 some pictures. She is a funny little thing ; she amuses us 
 all by her remarks. 
 
 Wednesday, October 20th. 
 
 Yesterday they questioned us at last upon the catechism, 
 and I knew my part very well, but they said I spoke too 
 softly. Gustave pretends to be much surprised at this, as 
 he says I am always screaming, but I would like to see 
 how well he could recite anything amongst all those lit 
 tle girls who are looking at you all the time. I am sure 
 he would be red to his ears. Marie de Laval said her part 
 well, too ; she trembled, but you could hear every word she 
 said. What a sweet voice she has ; it goes to my heart ! 
 They questioned Jeanne, too, but she stopped in the very 
 middle of her answer. It was not from shyness, for she 
 looks at me as if she had known me twenty years. Marie 
 tried to prompt her, but it was no use, and Jeanne had to 
 sit down. I should not have liked to be in her place, and 
 I hardly dared look at her, but she laughed, although she 
 was very red. I should not have felt like laughing. They 
 gave us a little analysis to make out, and I shall hope to 
 do mine nicely, as Mademoiselle will help me. They 
 allow us to have some help at first. I w r as made very happy 
 because in going out I had a few moments to speak to 
 Marie. It was raining, and her grandfather seemed 
 unwilling to venture outside, and was looking about for 
 a carriage. Mademoiselle offered to send him one, and he 
 made many, many acknowledgments, but would not accept 
 her offer. Marie said to me timidly : 
 
 " How good this young lady is ! -I am very much afraid
 
 38 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 that grandpapa will take cold, and it always makes him so 
 ill." I replied: 
 
 " Yes, indeed, Mademoiselle is very good, but she cannot 
 help being so." Then Marie said : 
 
 j " And I am sure that you are good too, and we are very 
 glad to be seated next you." 
 
 " And so am I," I answered ; " but I am not good at all, 
 I assure you ; but you are, I know." She smiled,.but at this 
 moment Mademoiselle backoned to me, and we went away 
 quickly to look for a carriage, which we sent to them. 
 Mademoiselle says that this grandpapa and these little 
 girls interest her very much. So I am not the only one 
 who feels so about them. 
 
 Thursday, October 30A, 
 
 Yesterday evening, after my lessons, Mademoiselle made 
 me make my examination of conscience, as I am to go to 
 confession on the festival of La Toussaint. How shall I 
 ever tell of my terrible rage ! But it will comfort me 
 when it is once done. I believe I am really repentant, foi 
 I feel so grieved when I think how wicked I have been, 
 and that God is so good. Gustave too is preparing to 
 confess, so that he does not tease me any more. Besides, 
 he will have the happiness of communing, and that always 
 makes him better. Oh ! how I wish I were in his place ! 
 
 Friday, October 31st. 
 
 I went to confession yesterday in the afternoon, and 
 now God knows all I have promised Him to do. I wish 
 and hope to keep my promise this time. I do not know 
 why it is that Cecile Dufon declares that she is always 
 so tired in church. I find it is so pleasant to be there. 
 Perhaps she never gets in a rage, and has nothing to tell 
 God. However, she has other faults, as I know well.
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE 39 
 
 And then her mother is so often ill. She could always 
 speak of that in her prayers. As for me, I have always 
 so much to say that 1 never know where to begin, and am 
 all in confusion ; but Mademoiselle says that is no matter. 
 First I have to ask pardon for all my sins, and then to beg 
 God to change me and Gustave too. Then for Baby, who 
 is sometimes sick ; for papa, especially when he is at sea ; 
 for mamma, my Uncle Henry, all my relations, and also 
 for my dear Mademoiselle. Lastly, for our long voyage. 
 By the way, I asked maihma when we should start, but 
 she told me the time was not yet fixed, but it would not be 
 for several months. She is so sad, whenever I speak 
 about it, that I cannot ask many questions. I am always 
 sorry to think about Gustave, but not as much as at first, 
 for he knows all about it now, and it does not trouble him 
 so very much ; but he is very brave. 
 
 Monday, November 3rf. 
 
 Saturday I had holiday for the feast of La Toussaint. 
 Yesterday being Sunday, we did not keep the Commemo 
 ration of the Dead until to-day. After Mass and break 
 fast were over, I went to my lessons. 
 
 Yesterday the church was all in mourning, which 
 touched me very much. Mamma and Mademoiselle were 
 both sad, for they have lost so many of those they loved. 
 Both mamma and Mademoiselle were at the communion 
 the day before yesterday and to-day. Gustave also yes 
 terday, and he was very good. I felt a sort of respect 
 for him, so that we passed the days very pleasantly. But 
 in the evening I was very near spoiling it all, as I grew 
 almost angry in talking about Mademoiselle. Stephanie 
 said to me while we were playing : 
 
 Jr / o 
 
 " Marguerite, why does Mademoiselle go to confession ?
 
 40 MAKGTJEKITE IN FRANCE 
 
 Has she committed any sins ? " I really felt puzzled, for 
 I certainly could not think that she had any sins. 
 
 But Gustave cried, " Ah ha ! I know, if you do not, of 
 what she accuses herself." This began to tease me,.and I 
 asked : 
 
 "Of what?" 
 
 " Of spoiling you too much." 
 
 " Oh, for shame ! " I cried ; " that is too bad ! How can 
 you say that she spoils me ? " 
 
 " Does she ever scold you ? Was she eren angry with 
 you, the day of your great rage ? " 
 
 " No, Gustave, but it made more impression on me than 
 if she had been angry." 
 
 " But she did not punish you, for you chose yourself to 
 stay in your room during dinner-time." 
 
 " Yes, Gustave ; but she knew just what to say to me which 
 would punish me most. But it is not very good of you to 
 speak of that hateful day. Were you not naughty too ? And 
 yet you went down to dinner ! It is you that are spoiled ! " 
 Gustave was going to answer, when Berthe cried out : 
 
 " It is not you two, it is I that am spoiled ! " This made 
 us all laugh, which was very fortunate. 
 
 Tuesday, November 4th. 
 
 To-day is Mademoiselle's birthday, and we have given 
 her many good wishes. I have prayed for her, too, for I 
 love her so much ! I have quite an event, too, to tell about 
 my studies, for I began yesterday to learn Roman history. 
 I have wanted to do so a long time. However, Greek his 
 tory is very- nice, and interests me greatly, but I am not so 
 sorry to have finished it, as Mademoiselle says I shall come 
 back to it, and learn it more in detail. Sometimes) when 
 Gustave is amiable, we have a very pleasant time. We
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 41 
 
 represent the scenes of ancient times and call it " playing 
 at great men." But he almost always wants to play the best 
 parts, and so do I, so that we generally end with a dis 
 pute. Once he gave up to me, but after all he was not 
 very good. lie consented that I should be Themistocles, 
 
 */ O 
 
 while he was Eurybiades, and when I said, " Strike, but lis 
 ten !" he replied, " There !" and gave me a great blow. I 
 was very angry, and told him that it was not in the play 
 at all, fur Eurybiades admired Themistocles, and that he 
 ought to feel so to me ; that he was not worthy of repre 
 senting a noble Greek, and that in order to punish him I 
 should not win the battle of Salamis. 
 
 How tiresome these disputes are. They spoil all one's 
 pleasure. I like better to play with Stephanie and Berthe, 
 for they at least do everything as I want it. Yesterday 
 evening we represented the Sacrifice of Abraham. I was 
 the patriarch, and Berthe played Isaac. She was too pretty > 
 with a fagot which I tied on her back to represent th 
 sacrificial wood. When she said to me, " My father," I 
 choked with laughter, but I pretended to be hiding mv 
 
 O O v 
 
 tears. But when I wanted to bind the eyes of my son, she 
 resisted, as that seemed to trouble her, and cried, " oSTo, no, 
 Maguitte, I want to see plain." I said to her with dignity, 
 " You must be quiet, for you are not like Isaac at all," but 
 she struggled so I added, " Very well, I am going to kill 
 you all the same." Stephanie waited all this time, mount 
 ed on a chair, to play the angel, and she caught my arm 
 very nicely, but unfortunately she suddenly tumbled off 
 of her chair, which was not very graceful conduct for an 
 angel. 
 
 Wednesday, November 5th. 
 
 Mademoiselle has been telling me about " the Rape of 
 the Sabines," which interested rne very much, as I had seen
 
 42 MAKGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 a picture of it. It was very wicked of Romulus to have 
 deceived the poor Sabines, and carried off the women by 
 force. How many wicked men there were in those an 
 cient times ! Mademoiselle says that it was because they 
 had forgotten God, and that our Lord Jesus Christ had not 
 yet come down to earth. Mademoiselle lias also explained 
 to me how the wicked are judged now in our times. How 
 the criminals are pursued, arrested, and condemned if they 
 are found guilty. And she has told me of the changes 
 which Christianity has made in the world. I wish that Ro 
 mulus had been put in prison for killing his poor brother, 
 Remus. And to think that the Romans should have made 
 a god of this wicked king ! 
 
 Baby was sick yesterday ; he seemed very feeble. Mamma 
 did not go out all day, and she was very sad, too, because 
 apa had gone to Brest. I am sorry, too, that papa 
 is not here, and that we shall not see him for some time, 
 but then I think that this absence will bring us nearer our 
 great voyage, which consoles me a little in spite of myself. 
 Besides, it is not the same as when papa goes away for 
 several months. I knew my catechism. They questioned 
 us on the lesson, to see how- well we understood it, and as 
 Mademoiselle had explained everything to me, I could an 
 swer correctly. M. 1' Abbe Martin told me that my analysis 
 was good, too, but a little too long, and that 1 must learn to 
 abridge. It is very true that I do not know how to do so. 
 What annoyed me was that the little girls laughed at what 
 M. 1' Abbe said to me ; but he told them it was a good fault, 
 and he wished he could complain of it in them. How 
 good Marie was ! When they were talking about me, she 
 did not look at me at all, but afterwards she gave me such 
 a sweet smile. But what gave me even more pleasure 
 was to meet Mademoiselle's eyes. She looked at me as
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 43 
 
 mamma does sometimes. And indeed she is my mother, 
 after mamma. 
 
 Friday, November 1th. 
 
 What a nice day I had yesterday ! I went to Mass with 
 Mademoiselle, and then, instead of bringing me home at 
 once to my studies, as usual, she took me to visit our poor 
 people. I had gained by my good marks twenty sous 
 during the past month, and mamma added something. So, 
 with what Gustave and the little ones had, I could give 
 &w&y five francs ! That was beautiful ! We went at first 
 to a book-store to buy a book of prayers, which the priest 
 had recommended to us at the catechism on Tuesday. 
 And what did I see but Marie and Jeanne de Laval, who 
 came out of church and were going to look for the same 
 book. I grew quite red with pleasure, and stopped to look 
 at them without thinking of anything else ; but Made 
 moiselle asked for the books, and made me choose one. I 
 had only nodded to the little girls, but I could not help 
 thinking what a good chance it was to make their accpiain- 
 tance, only I did not know how to begin. But Made 
 moiselle, who always understands me, spoke to Marie, and 
 said, pointing tome : 
 
 " Here is a little girl who is very happy to meet you." 
 " And I am, too, Mademoiselle, I assure you," said Marie 
 in her sweet voice, " for I did not know when I should be 
 able to thank you for the kindness you showed to my 
 grandfather the other day." 
 
 I Mademoiselle said that it had been very easy for us to do 
 \ BO small a kindness, and in this way the conversation be 
 gan. We went out together, and found they were going 
 in the same direction as ourselves. They were with an old 
 negress, at whom I should have looked curiously enough 
 at another time, but I liked better to look at Marie. It is
 
 44: MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 strange, but she seems to do just as she likes, and yet I am 
 sure she is not wilful. One can see that Jeanne obeys her 
 sister, which surprises me, for Marie is so gentle. Made 
 moiselle spoke of their grandfather, and we soon learned 
 that he was their only protector. They have lost both father 
 and mother ! Ah, poor little girls, it was what I feared so 
 much ! Marie told us in very few words, but the tears 
 were in her eyes and you could see that she could not say 
 much of these sad events. Her father died when she was 
 quite young, but her mother lately, in coming from one of 
 the colonies, as her mother was a Creole. I did not dare 
 ask the name of the colony, but happily Marie mentioned 
 it. It is the island of Bourbon. Marie looks like a Creole, 
 for although she is pale, she is also dark, but Jeanne is 
 very fair. It seems that the grandfather is the father of their 
 father and that they live with him. They said good-by to 
 us at the door of a fine old house, where they live. I was 
 very glad to know where they lived, and Mademoiselle 
 said she thought I should be able to see them again. 
 "With this, and the happiness of giving five francs to one 
 poor family, I was as happy as a queen all day. 
 
 
 
 Monday, November Wth. 
 
 Baby was very sick yesterday, which made everybody 
 very unhappy. Mamma was very much frightened, and 
 that made us all feel afraid. When Stephanie saw 1 that 
 mamma was crying, she thought that Baby must be going 
 to die, and she sobbed and cried until she made herself 
 sick. Mademoiselle took Stephanie away, and told her 
 that she was only troubling mamma, and that she could 
 not cure Baby by crying, but she must say a little prayer 
 for him. She said that Baby was not in as much danger 
 as mamma thought, but a mother was always anxious.
 
 MAKGUEKITE IN FKANCE. 45 
 
 Stephanie was somewhat consoled, but she would not go to 
 walk until Mademoiselle told her that Josephine should 
 take her and Berthe to church, where they could ask God 
 to cure Baby. 
 
 Mademoiselle allowed me to stay and help her to take 
 care of the poor little darling. I was so happy to be of 
 some use, but I should have been happier to see Baby well. 
 Mademoiselle put on the blisters and poultices that the 
 doctor has ordered, and I ran back and forth to bring 
 what she wanted. Poor Baby, he laid his little head on 
 nurse's shoulder and moaned so gently that it broke one's 
 heart to hear him, and then he looked at us so piteously ! 
 It brought the tears to my eyes, but I kept them back, and 
 tried to be brave like Mademoiselle. At last, when the 
 doctor came back in the evening, Baby was sleeping quiet 
 ly, and no one'in the room dared to move. My limbs were 
 stiff, and in spite of myself I kept falling asleep. The doc 
 tor said he thought Baby was much better, and just then 
 Baby waked and smiled as if he understood. Then he 
 wanted to go to mamma, which relieved poor nurse a Jittle. 
 They let me kiss the little love before they sent me away. 
 I found Stephanie delighted, and she said to me : 
 
 " You see, Marguerite, that Baby is almost well, for the 
 doctor has told us so, and the good God has cured him." 
 Berthe and Gustave were both very happy. Gustave said 
 to me: 
 
 " You have been playing sick-nurse, I hear. It was high 
 time ! I see you are good for something." lie wanted to 
 make fun of me, but. I did not get angry, for I was too 
 happy. 
 
 Tuesday, November llth. 
 
 Baby is much better. Yesterday was a fine day, and 
 we all went to church to thank God for curing the little
 
 46 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 pet. It is so fortunate, as mamma says, that papa will 
 not hear of Baby's illness until he hears he is well. It 
 would have been sad for papa when he is so far away. I 
 wonder when he will come home. It seems a long time 
 since he went. "We all miss him, but mamma most of all. 
 I studied well, and Mademoiselle was pleased with me. 
 But I found terrible things in my Roman history. How 
 the poor Servius Tullius was killed by his son-in-law, that 
 wicked prince whom they call Tarquin the Superb ! And 
 what is more dreadful is, that even the daughter of the 
 unhappy king, the wicked Tullia, had no pity for her own 
 father ! I feel overwhelmed by such dreadful things, for 
 I began to like the Romans a little. 
 
 Wednesday, November 12th. 
 
 I am wild with joy, for Marie and Jeanne are coming 
 to-morrow to spend the day with me. Mamma, who is al- 
 \vays good, asked M. 1'Abbe Martin about the two little 
 girls, and he told her their history, which is very touching. 
 The good old grandpapa had only one son, who was the 
 father of Marie and Jeanne, and was a sailor. His vessel 
 was sent on a grand expedition to India, but they met 
 English vessels, which attacked them. The French defend 
 ed themselves bravely, and the English could not take the 
 vessel, although the French had many killed and wound 
 ed. But the saddest of all was that the young officer, M. 
 de Laval, was more seriously wounded than any of the 
 others. They thought he would die, which was very sad, as 
 he acted so bravely. They put him ashore at the island of 
 Bourbon with the rest of the wounded, to be nursed there. 
 The Creoles are so kind, that they cared for these poor 
 people as if they had been friends, and when M. de Laval 
 came out of the hospital, every one was anxious to have
 
 MAKGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 47 
 
 him come to his country house to regain his strength. 
 But he had lost one leg, which was a great misfortune. 
 But after all he had some consolation for it, for a young 
 lady in one of the Creole families this was the mother of 
 Marie and Jeanne admired and pitied the poor wounded 
 officer so much that after a little time she married him. 
 They wrote about it to the good grandpapa, but in those 
 days, when there was so much fighting at sea, letters were 
 very long in going from one place to another. So the poor 
 father mourned for his son as dead, for he had only heard 
 that he was left wounded at the island of Bourbon. But 
 young M. de Laval was not dead, and after a little while 
 he had a son, then Marie, and then Jeanne. But, alas ! at 
 the end of four years, he was taken very ill, and in spite 
 of the love and care of his poor wife he died, just as they 
 received letters from the grandfather, who was so rejoiced 
 to hear good news of his son. Poor Mme. de Laval was 
 almost inconsolable. At last, by degrees, she recovered 
 her cheerfulness, but she never cared to go out or have any 
 society, and was also very delicate. They wrote all this to 
 the grandfather, but did not hear from him for two years, 
 as the sad news had made him so ill that for a long time 
 they thought he would not get well. But as soon as he 
 could, he wrote to beg Mme. de Laval so earnestly to 
 come to him and bring his grandchildren, that she could 
 not refuse him. She could not, however, start at once, as 
 she was afraid to make so long a voyage alone. Tier fam 
 ily tried to arrange everything for her, as they thought 
 the sea voyage would do her good, and a change was neces 
 sary for the education of her children. So last year she 
 started with her three children. But something terribly 
 sad happened. Mme. de Laval was so ill at sea that she 
 could not be cured, and she died before the voyage was
 
 48 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 more than half passed. M. 1'Abbe said that he heard Marie 
 had been like an angel about her poor mother's sick-bed, 
 and the son, too, had been very, devoted to her, but all in 
 vain. I do not see how Marie could bear such a sorrow ! 
 I should not dare to speak to her of it, although 1 long to 
 do so. Even M. 1'Abbe himself had tears in his eyes, mamma 
 said, as he spoke of it. It was the old grandfather who 
 told M. 1'Abbe. He says he can never forgive himself 
 for having sent for his daughter-in-law, and he pets his 
 grandchildren as much as he can. The son is preparing 
 himself for the sea, like his father, and Marie and Jeanne 
 take lessons at home. M. 1'Abbe says they are charming 
 little girls, and that I. could not have a sweeter friend than 
 Marie, of which 1 was sure myself. So mamma permitted 
 me to ask Marie and Jeanne to come and spend to-morrow 
 afternoon with me. I wrote myself to Marie, and Made 
 moiselle said my note would do nicely. Marie has sent me 
 such a lovely note in answer to mine, and has accepted ! 
 I am too happy ! 
 
 Friday, November 
 Mademoiselle wishes me to write down the account of 
 my day yesterday, instead of my composition, so I shall 
 try to do as well as I can. Well, I went to Mass in the 
 morning at 9 o'clock and there I saw Marie and Jeanne 
 sitting beneath the pulpit. But I took no notice of them, 
 as I felt it would not be proper to nod or smile to any one 
 in church. After my lessons and breakfast were over. I 
 busied myself in putting in order the school-room and 
 my own little room, in which Stephanie helped me 
 very nicely. She was quite happy because I had promised 
 that she should have Jeanne. Berthe wanted some one, 
 too, so I offered her the old negress, but she would not
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 4:9 
 
 agree to that, saying she should be afraid of her. At last, 
 soon after one o'clock, as I was looking out of the window, 
 and beginning to feel a little impatient, I saw the two sisters 
 coming with the old negress. I begged Mademoiselle to 
 go down with me, for I felt too shy to go alone. Mademoi 
 selle kindly consented, and soon found means, in her pleas 
 ant way, of putting Marie quite at her ease. With Jeanne 
 it was not difficult, as she is much less shy than Marie. I 
 felt more embarrassed than either of them, as I felt I was 
 doing the honors of my own house. I gave my hands to 
 them, and asked them to come upstairs, while Mademoiselle 
 asked the old negress if she would prefer to stay with the 
 little girls, or .leave them to us. The old woman, who 
 speaks so queerly that neither Mademoiselle nor I can un 
 derstand half of what she says, preferred to go. So Marie 
 said to her : 
 
 " Very well, my good Babet, you can go, since you prefer 
 it. You must take good care of grandpapa while we are 
 here." When the old negress had gone, and we turned to 
 go upstairs, there was Berthe, who had been listening, and 
 called out to me from above : 
 
 " Maguitte, Maguitte, now you see I have nobody at all." 
 I was much disconcerted, and did not know what to say. 
 She is really a little plague. I whispered to her to be 
 quiet, but she only called out as she ran off : 
 
 " And there is Stephanie, who will not take hers." Marie 
 asked : 
 
 " Are those your little sisters ? Ask them to come and 
 speak to us." I was obliged to run after Berthe, and 
 give Stephanie quite a lecture before they would come 
 and speak to our visitors. Little sisters are certainly very 
 troublesome. Marie was delighted with them, and Jeanne 
 began at once to play with Berthe as if they had been the
 
 50 MAKGUEKITE IN FEANCE. 
 
 same age. Berthe was very proud of this, but Stephanie 
 seemed a little vexed, until they all began to look at pic 
 tures, when Jeanne gave the preference to Stephanie, 
 who could explain them so nicely. Marie and I talked 
 together very pleasantly, now that the first embarrassment 
 was over. She asked me first to tell her what it was that 
 Berthe meant, when she called out to me on the staircase. 
 When I told her she laughed heartily, which made me very 
 happy, -for she always looks so sad. Then I went on to 
 tell her some of Berthe's funny sayings, which seemed to 
 amuse her greatly. She told me in return something of 
 Jeanne's droll ways. Marie says she is still very childish and 
 rather heedless, but she is warm-hearted. It is quite as 
 tonishing, but Marie is only a little more than two years 
 older than I am (as she is past twelve years old), and yet 
 I feel so much respect for her, and am so proud to have 
 her talk to me! When I said something like this to 
 her, she answered : " It is sorrow which has made me seem 
 older than I am. I cannot be like a child after all I have 
 suffered." 
 
 " Oh, yes," I said, " I know how terrible it must have 
 been." The tears came into our eyes, and just at this moment 
 mamma came into the room. She kissed Marie, and said 
 that after all she had heard of her, she felt she loved her 
 without knowing her. "And especially," she added, " as 
 my little Marguerite's heart was given to you from the 
 first." It was so good of mamma to say this. Marie 
 seemed very shy with mamma, but you could see by her eyes 
 that she thought mamma was very kind. Mamma soon 
 left us, telling us to enjoy ourselves as much as possible, 
 at the same Lime she kissed me, telling Marie she hoped 
 she would make me gentle and reasonable like herself. 
 When she was gone, Marie said :
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 51 
 
 "Ah, how lovely your mamma is ! I am sorry I did not 
 thank her better for her kindness. But I can never say what 
 I feel, and then^you know " She stopped, and I asked : 
 
 " What, Marie ? But do not tell me if it troubles you." 
 She hesitated, and then replied : 
 
 " Oh, if you knew how it made me feel to see a mother 
 kissing her child ! " and she burst into tears. I did not 
 know what to say, but I kissed her and said : 
 
 " Pray do not cry, Marie. I cannot bear to see you sad 
 here, for I wanted to amuse you. Mamma and I both love 
 you ; and I am sure mamma would kiss you, too, if it 
 would give you any pleasure." Marie recovered herself 
 and said : 
 
 " I beg your pardon, but it is so short a time since I kissed 
 my dear mamma, and yet so long, since I can never do it 
 again." 
 
 " That is very true, dear Marie, but you will surely see 
 her again in heaven, and what a happiness that will be for 
 you ! Are you like your poor mamma ? " 
 
 " Yes, they say I look very like her, while Jeanne is like 
 our poor papa." 
 
 " Ah, yes, but your father had lost his leg, which must 
 have grieved you very much." 
 
 " He was so used to it that we did not think of it ; but 
 it was very sad." 
 
 "I think so, indeed ! I should be glad to have papa fight 
 so well, too, for he is brave enough ; but I should not want 
 him to lose a leg." 
 
 " Fortunately," replied Marie, " there is no war now." I 
 said I was very glad, as we were so soon going to India, 
 and I should not like to have our ship attacked. 
 
 " You are going to India," said Marie ; " then you will 
 pass the island of Bourbon."
 
 52 MAKGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 " Yes, they say so." 
 
 " How delighted you will be with our beautiful coun 
 try." , 
 
 " Is it beautiful, Marie ? Is it at all like Prance ? " 
 
 " I do not find it so, for on our journey from Nantes to 
 Paris I could not see a tree or plant like those we have at 
 home ; and then the climate is so different." 
 
 " Ah, Marie, how I wish you were going back with us ! 
 "Would you not like it ? Have you any relations there now ? " 
 
 " Yes, we have my uncle Adrian there, the brother of 
 mamma, who loves us very dearly. But grandpapa has 
 no one but us, and then it would be so sad to go back to 
 Bourbon now." I saw Marie was thinking of her mother, 
 and I wanted very much to ask her something about which 
 I had been thinking, so I said : 
 
 " If it will not pain you too much, Marie, will you answer 
 me one question '( " 
 
 " Certainly I will." 
 
 " Well," I said, although my voice trembled, " why did 
 your poor mamma die ? Did you not pray with all your 
 heart to God when you saw she was so ill ? " As I feared, 
 Marie burst into tears at once ; she could not speak. I felt 
 very sorry that I had asked the question, but it was done. 
 At last Marie said to me : 
 
 " I too have asked that so often, for I prayed so earnest 
 ly ! Through the long nights Avhen I was watching beside 
 her I begged God to cure her for me." 
 
 " What ! you did not go to bed ? How tired you must 
 have been ! " 
 
 " I did not think of it ; but what grieved me more than 
 all, Marguerite, was that, in spite of all my prayers, mamma 
 died ! I have never said this to any one else, and only 
 to you because you asked me."
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 53 
 
 " But, Marie, what can one do? Is it, then, no use to pray ? 
 But Mademoiselle would say it was very wrong to say 
 such a thing. Listen, Marie, I will go and ask her ; she al 
 ways explains what puzzles me." 
 
 " Oh no, Marguerite, do not go, I beg you, while I am 
 here." 
 
 " Well, I will ask her afterwards, and tell you another 
 time." 
 
 " But, Marguerite, I am sure you must want to play, in 
 stead of talking here." 
 
 " No, indeed, I like to talk better than to play. Ask 
 Gustave if it is not so." 
 
 " Is your brother's name Gustave ? " 
 
 " Yes, and yours ? " 
 
 " Is Alberic." 
 
 " Ah, what a nice name ! Does he tease you too ? " 
 
 " Sometimes, at least he did at Bourbon ; but since my 
 mother's death he is much graver, and is always kind to 
 us." 
 
 " Well, I would rather have Gustave tease me always. 
 How often do you see your brother ? " 
 
 " Every fortnight." 
 
 " And I see Gustave every day, which I like best. How 
 old is your brother ? " 
 
 " Sixteen." 
 
 " Oh, he is big. I wish I could see him." 
 
 " I hope you will see him when you come to see us." 
 
 " I will ask mamma to let me come, but perhaps it 
 would trouble your grandfather." 
 
 " Oh no ! he is so good, that he likes everything that 
 amuses us." After this we went to look for the little ones, 
 with whom we.played a grand goose-game. Then we went 
 into the garden, where I showed Marie the greenhouse
 
 54: MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 and my birds. I took her into my room and the nursery. 
 We paid Mademoiselle a little visit, and then went to play 
 with Bab} r . It was strange, but the little fellow feels as I 
 do, for he smiled at Marie at once, but would not go to 
 Jeanne. Marie petted both Stephanie and Berthe, and 
 said how pretty Stephanie was, with her great eyes, soft 
 as those of a gazelle. It is true, but I had never thought 
 of it. "We had a very merry time at lunch, for Jeanne 
 made us all laugh with her funny ways. She has a strange 
 way of speaking, which they say is like the Creoles, and I 
 cannot always understand what she means. At six o'clock 
 Babet came for the two sisters. I wanted very much to 
 keep them for dinner, but Marie said she had left her 
 grandfather already too long alone. And now my story is 
 done. I dare say that Mademoiselle will find a good many 
 faults in it, that I have said too much perhaps, or have 
 repeated the same words. But, dear Mademoiselle, I assure 
 you I have done it as well as I could. I must stop now, for 
 my hand is very tired. 
 
 Saturday, November 15th. 
 
 I have been talking to-day to Mademoiselle about what 
 troubled Marie and myself so much yesterday. She said 
 I was right to speak to her about it, but I must never again 
 think that " it is no use to pray." I told her first how 
 we came to speak of these things, and also how sad Marie 
 was. She replied : 
 
 " My child, it is always of use to pray ; never forget that. 
 Sometimes, it is true, God does not grant us what we ask." 
 I interrupted her crying : 
 
 " You see, then, Mademoiselle ! " 
 
 " Wait," she replied. " He does not always grant it ; and 
 why ? It is because He sees things differently and more
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 55 
 
 clearly than we do. Do you, not understand this, Mar 
 guerite ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Then again, my child, we often are deceiving ourselves 
 in what we ask for. We only can see the present, but God, 
 who knows the future also, will not always grant our 
 prayers." $ 
 
 " But, Mademoiselle, how can we know if what we ask 
 for is for our good ? " 
 
 " Because if it is for our good, God will grant it; if not, 
 He will refuse it." 
 
 "But, Mademoiselle, to pray for the health of one's 
 mother cannot be wrong." 
 
 " Certainly not, Marguerite. It is a duty, and at the same 
 time a comfort." 
 
 " But it is not a comfort, if God refuses it." 
 
 " Wait a 'moment. It is a duty, because God always 
 wants to hear all that we wish, since He is truly Our 
 Father ; and it is a comfort, since we may always hope that 
 He will grant what we ask. But suppose it happens to us 
 as to this poor little Marie, that God does not grant our 
 prayer, we must not doubt His kindness, or think He does 
 not hear us. He did hear Marie, and granted her prayer 
 in another way. What did she want ? That her mother 
 might be happy but here on earth with her children." 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle, that seems natural." 
 
 " Yes, but we must remember that God's thoughts are 
 not as our thoughts, arid we do not know how much sorrow 
 and suffering the poor lady has been spared by dying 
 now." 
 
 " But God could have made her happy, Mademoiselle, 
 had He chosen to do so." 
 
 " And can you say that He has not done BO, Mar-
 
 56 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 guerite ? What is our happiness here compared to that in 
 heaven ? " 
 
 " That is true, Mademoiselle, and I tried to say so to 
 Marie myself. But it is very natural that she should feel 
 very desolate without her mother ! " 
 
 " Indeed it is, Marguerite ; but it may be that this great 
 sorrow may also prove a happiness for Marie." But I cried : 
 
 " Oh ! Mademoiselle, that is too much to say." 
 
 " No, my child ; think of the duties of love which Mario 
 now has laid upon her since her mother has been taken from 
 her. Think of the blessing she can be to her poor grand 
 father, the guide and protector to her little sister. In for 
 getting herself and in living for others will she not attain 
 a purer happiness than mere selfish enjoyment can give?" 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle, but it seems very hard to me for 
 poor Marie, who is still so young, only twelve years old." 
 
 " Yes, my child, but do you not believe that God is ready 
 to strengthen and support her ? If you feel for her such 
 a loving pity, how must God regard her, whose love and 
 tenderness is so far above ours ? Do you remember ask 
 ing me, after we had read the history of Joseph, why that 
 poor child was so cruelly treated? And yet God had 
 great things in store for him." 
 
 " But, Mademoiselle, Marie cannot be minister to a great 
 king." 
 
 " She will become, I trust, a saint in heaven ; is not that 
 worth more ? " 
 
 " Ah, much more ; but I do not want her to go at once." 
 
 " It may be long before she is called, my child, but now, 
 Marguerite, can you remember to tell Marie what I have 
 said ? " 
 
 " I am almost afraid not, Mademoiselle ; but could you 
 not tell her yourself ? "
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 57 
 
 " No, my child, it is through you that she must receive 
 this answer, for she wished it to be so. You must go, then, 
 and write down what I have said, which will fix it more 
 iirmly in your own memory, and then when you see Marie 
 you will remember more distinctly." After this I left 
 Mademoiselle, and went to write my journal. I feel so 
 anxious to see Marie again. 
 
 Monday, November 17th. 
 
 I was at Mass yesterday, with mamma, Mademoiselle, 
 and Gustave. I believe I behaved pretty well, and tried 
 to pray without thinking of other things. But I am sorry 
 to say that I have been vain again, as I was the day I put 
 on my pretty pink dress for the first time. This time 
 it was on account of my bonnet, for mamma has had made 
 for me such a pretty new one, in place of my summer bon 
 net, which was shabby. It makes me so happy to wear 
 anything new. I want every one to notice it. One would 
 think that I felt it a merit of my own to wear pretty things ! 
 But what annoys me very much is that Gustave always 
 sees when I feel vain, and makes all sorts of remarks to 
 tease me. So yesterday, both going to church and coming 
 home, he kept looking at my bonnet as if he admired it so 
 much, when really he does not at all. Then he would say 
 to me : " Do I please you ? Would you like me to tell all 
 the passers-by that you have on a new bonnet ? But your 
 face says enough ; you put on such coquettish airs ! " And 
 then when I grew angry he began again : " Ah, you think 
 I do not speak loud enough. Well, then, gentlemen and 
 ladies, do look how well dressed my sister Marguerite is ! 
 Pray admire her. Is not this white plush bonnet, with its 
 pretty bows, perfectly charming ? Do not notice the ugly 
 face she is making just now, but just admire the bonnet."
 
 58 MAEGTJEKITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 It was really too bad, and I was so angry I would not take his 
 arm. I was so afraid that some one would hear him, and 
 even in church I felt he was looking at my bonnet. But 
 what teases me most is that I feel what he says is partly 
 true. I certainly do like to have compliments, either for 
 my memory or for what I say, it does not matter what, 
 but it pleases me very muck Yet Mademoiselle never gives 
 them to me, but when she says to me, " That is right, Mar 
 guerite," I am happier than with any other praise. And 
 I am always so ashamed of being vain before Mademoiselle, 
 for I am sure she always notices it. 
 
 Wednesday, November 19th. 
 
 Yesterday at catechism I was again thinking of my new 
 bonnet, but I tried hard not to do so. And then I had a 
 great humiliation, which took down my pride very much. 
 My analysis was badly done ! Mademoiselle had told me 
 so, but I hoped she was mistaken, as they had not found fault 
 with me yet, but I had the smallest ticket. I did not feel 
 ver^ proud of my new bonnet then, as it only made me 
 more noticed. I felt so ashamed before Marie, who had 
 the best ticket, although I felt very glad, too, that she should 
 have it. But Marie is much larger than I am, indeed she 
 is the largest in the class. It is because her mother want 
 ed the two sisters to prepare together for their first com 
 munion. So that Marie has waited for Jeanne. They both 
 hope to be received this year, and Marie tells me Jeanne is 
 doing all she can to get ready. But it troubles me much to 
 think that I shall not make my first communion with Marie, 
 for it requires two years of catechism to prepare one, and 
 this is my first year. I shall be in India when I finish, 
 and I wish I knew if they do the same there as here. 
 
 After catechism I went out with Marie and Jeanne, while
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 59 
 
 their grandfather talked to Mademoiselle. He asked her 
 if I could come next Thursday, to spend the afternoon and 
 din with his grandchildren. It is such a pity, for I should 
 have enjoyed it so much, but mamma has invited Clara to 
 corne and see me on that day, and I cannot be uncivil. 
 Mademoiselle thanked M. de Laval, and said she hoped it 
 could be another day, but Marie and I are so disappointed ! 
 I wanted so much to tell her about my conversation with 
 Mademoiselle, but I could not do so in the street, and I am 
 sure Marie wants to hear what I have to tell. 
 
 Friday, November 21st. 
 
 Mamma has had a letter at last from papa, which tells us, 
 he will be home again on Sunday. It has made us all so 
 happy to hear this ; even Baby laughed as if he understood 
 it. Clara spent the day with me yesterday, and we had 
 a very pleasant time, although I did not feel quite, so glad 
 to see her as usual. I do riot like her so much as Marie, 
 who is so simple, while Clara has all sorts of airs. She 
 always acts as if she were a young lady, although she is only 
 two years older than I, and then she is so vain ! Because her 
 father is deputy she thinks she is above every one else, 
 and she is so proud because her mother is so rich. I do not 
 like her mother ; she is more disagreeable than Clara. She 
 speaks so strangely about Mile. Levins, so differently from 
 the way mamma speaks about Mademoiselle. Mme. de 
 Baldi brought Clara herself, and made mamma a little visit 
 while Clara and I were still in the parlor. As Mme. d6 
 Baldi went away, she said to her daughter : 
 
 " When do you want me to send your maid for you ? " 
 " When you choose, mamma ; but if you were to send 
 Mademoiselle instead, and in good time, I could go to the 
 Champs- Ely sees before coming home."
 
 60 MAKGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 " I promised to give her this afternoon ; but it is no mat 
 ter ; she must manage to come home earlier."" 
 
 "Mamma," replied Clara, " you had better not change 
 it, for you promised her this holiday last week." 
 
 " No, no, my child, do not trouble yourself. We cannot 
 make slaves of ourselves to these people, can we,madame 1 " 
 But mamma said, I thought very coldly : 
 
 " It is, however, very pleasant to try and make their lives 
 more agreeable." , 
 
 " Oh, yes," said M me. de Baldi, " but you are an exception. 
 You have a treasure, who was also an intimate friend. But 
 I am not bound by such considerations, and between our 
 selves I will say I like it better." Mamma said nothing, so 
 Mme. de Baldi went away, and Clara and I went to play with 
 the children. I was very tired in the evening, so I went 
 to bed early. 
 
 Monday, November SAih. 
 
 How happy I was yesterday, and am still to-day, for my 
 dear papa has come home. It seemed so long since we had. 
 seen him. When he arrived after dinner, we almost stilled 
 him with kisses ; but I do not think he was displeased. 
 Gustave was beside him, helping take the parcels out of 
 the carriage. Stephanie had her arms around his neck. 
 Berthe climbed up on him like a cat, while I pulled his 
 hands until he stooped down to kiss me. He tried to look 
 a little stern to quiet us, but we were too happy to be fright 
 ened. Even mamma could not get near him. At last we 
 took him in to dinner, and then he told us all about his jour 
 ney, or at least he answered our questions, for papa never 
 talks a great deal. At last he gave each of us a little pres 
 ent. Gustave had a little cane made of wood which comes 
 from a great distance, and I had a little box carved by the 
 convicts. 1 do not like convicts very much, but my box
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 61 
 
 is lovely. Stephanie had a pretty little cup made from a 
 cocoanut, and Berthe a beautiful toy. Even Baby had 
 something a jingling rattle. Mamma had a beautiful 
 box, ornamented with splendid shells, and Mademoiselle a 
 very pretty one too. We were all delighted even Jose 
 phine, to whom papa brought a little basket. How good 
 he was to remember everybody ! 
 
 Wednesday, November 2Qtk. 
 
 It was arranged yesterday after catechism that I should 
 go on Thursday to see Marie, but not to stay to dinner, as 
 mamma did not wish it. Marie asked Stephanie, and 
 Berthe too, and I am glad, as they can play with Jeanne, 
 while I talk as I like with Marie. Still it will be a trouble 
 to look after them. Poor Baby cannot go on these expe 
 ditions, for he cannot walk yet. But he begins to stand 
 quite well, when you take his two little hands, and some 
 times he likes standing so much he does not want to sit 
 down. I wonder when he will walk. I had some bad marks 
 yesterday. I do not know how it is, but of late I have not 
 worked so well, and at the end of this week Mademoiselle 
 counts the marks for the month ! I must try to do better. 
 
 Friday, November 28th. 
 
 I am so sorry that yesterday is over, but it will be a lit 
 tle comfort to write about it. In the first place, I said my 
 lessons better in the morning, which gave me better marks. 
 After breakfast Josephine dressed us all three, and 
 mamma allowed Stephanie and Berthe to go with me, on 
 condition that Josephine should go with us and stay, as 
 she was afraid that the children would make too much 
 noise for the poor grandpapa. And I think she was quite 
 right. Mademoiselle went with us, too, to present us 
 to M. de Laval. He was very kind, and so very polite to
 
 62 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. * 
 
 Mademoiselle, and even to me. Mademoiselle says he has 
 the old French politeness. It seems that the new is not so 
 polite, which is a pity, for the old is very nice. They took 
 us into the drawing-room, where the furniture is quite 
 strange looking, not at all like what mamma and Mine, de 
 Baldi have, because it is very old. Then there were a 
 great many portraits of people dressed as you see them 
 at the Carnival, like lords and ladies. The carpets and 
 curtains were much worn, so that I dare say Clara would 
 have laughed at them, but I looked at them with respect. 
 What impressed me most was to see the good old grand 
 papa beside the two little girls in black, and no father or 
 mother. It brought the tears to my eyes. And Mademoi 
 selle felt it too. 
 
 M. de Laval thanked Mademoiselle many times for 
 bringing us to see his grandchildren, and Mademoiselle 
 said that mamma was afraid that we should weary him. He 
 replied : " Oh, certainly not, Mademoiselle. I am always so 
 glad when I see my little girls happy, and my Marie al 
 ready loves this pretty child so much." He looked at me 
 as he spoke, and I thought how polite he was to call me 
 pretty, but I think he is mistaken in say ing. so. He looked 
 for some sugar L plums for the children, and was so kind 
 that he quite won Berthe's heart, so that in speaking of 
 him at home she exclaimed, " I think he is such a nice 
 old gentleman ! " She might have boasted of making a fine 
 uproar for him, for she grew so excited in playing with 
 Jeanne that the poor grandpapa had to take refuge in his 
 own room. Marie carried me off to her room, while the 
 little ones stayed to play in the dining-room, which was 
 large, with Josephine to watch them. I looked at all 
 Marie's pretty things, and she had a great many which she 
 had brought from Bourbon necklaces of sandal-wood, and
 
 MAKGUEEITE IN FKANCE. 63 
 
 such pretty seeds which they call Job's Tears, and which 
 can be strung like beads. Marie gave me some of them. 
 Besides these she had straw mats, and all sorts of things 
 made of cocoanut, shells, and coral. I could have spent 
 the day looking at them. I like Marie's room so much ; it 
 is simple, but very pretty. There are blue curtains at the 
 windows and around Marie's and Jeanne's beds, for the 
 two sisters sleep in little beds, side by side. At the foot of 
 the bed there is a crucifix, which is Marie's, and belonged 
 to her mother. At each side of the fireplace there are 
 medallions with hair in them, and Marie said: " It is papa's 
 and mamma's." Poor Marie ! it is sad, but sweet, to have 
 such things before her every day. She said to me: " You 
 asked the other day if I looked like mamma. I will show 
 you her portrait, which is exactly like her." She opened a 
 drawer and took out a pretty red jewel-box, with a cipher 
 on it, and from this she took a beautiful gold bracelet. It 
 had a medallion, upon which was painted the portrait of 
 Marie's mother. Oh, how pretty she must have been, with 
 large, beautiful eyes, dark, but not black, and long, very 
 black lashes. Her face was rather thin and pale, with a 
 lovely little mouth, which smiled sweetly, just as Marie does. 
 Her beautiful hair was arranged so prettily, and her com 
 plexion was brown, but very clear. As I looked at this 
 lovely face, I felt so grieved for Marie that I began to sob, 
 and Marie, too, while she said : " How good you are to 
 weep with me." 
 
 Suddenly I thought it would be kinder to try and com 
 fort Marie, so I began to tell her what Mademoiselle had 
 said to me. Marie listened attentively, and said it was all 
 very true. 
 
 " But after all, Marguerite," she said sadly, " it does not 
 give me back my mother." I said all I could to console
 
 64 MAKGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 her, and after a few moments she replied : " You are right, 
 Marguerite, and it was very kind of you to remember so 
 nicely what Mademoiselle Yalmy said. You must tell her 
 that I will try to be more reasonable and more submissive 
 to God's will." 
 
 She still looked very sad, but of course I could not ex 
 pect her grief to pass away at once. She begged me to 
 pray for her, which I shall certainly do with all my heart. 
 After she had put away her precious portrait, she showed 
 me some albums, in which were drawings taken by her 
 father in Bourbon. He must have drawn very well, and 
 I was delighted to see pictures of that beautiful country. 
 I am afraid it will not be as pleasant in India. Marie and 
 I both talked a long time about our voyage and about 
 Bourbon. 
 
 Babet came to call us to lunch, for she always waits on 
 her little mistresses. Marie speaks of her so often in talk 
 ing to me, that I feel as if I really knew her, and yet I 
 can hardly understand what she says. Marie often has 
 
 / / 
 
 to explain her meanings, which is not pleasant. I found 
 Berthe had made friends with her at once, was prattling to 
 her like a little parrot, and pulling her about everywhere, 
 which made Babet laugh and show her great white teeth, 
 shining out of her black face. This amused Berthe great 
 ly, so that she called out to me as I came in : " See, Ma- 
 guitte, you did very well to give her to me." And then 
 , Babet was delighted. Stephanie and Jeanne seemed to be 
 enjoying themselves too. We sat down to table, where 
 there were cakes, fruit, and flowers. ^1 thought it looked too 
 pretty for us children. Just as we were beginning, M. de 
 Laval came in, and said he wished to do the honors for us 
 himself. He was so very polite and ceremonious that I felt 
 quite frightened and could eat very little, but Stephanie
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 65 
 
 and Berthe enjoyed everything. After lunch M. de Laval 
 took us into the parlor where he had a lottery for us. How 
 pleasant it was, and I drew all sorts of pretty things! 
 Amongst the rest a little seal, which is a love, and which 
 I shall use for the letters I shall write from India to Gus- 
 tave and Marie, for Marie has promised to write to me. 
 Stephanie and Berthe had some pretty toys, while Marie 
 and Jeanne had hardly anything. I wonder what I can 
 give them in return. I must find something. Soon after 
 five Josephine said it was time to go ; so we put on our 
 hats and coats, although Berthe was very unwilling at first 
 to get ready. In the evening I remembered Marie in my 
 prayers, and shall do so every day. 
 
 Monday, December \st. 
 
 Fortunately I am quite used to my bonnet now, so that 
 I did not feel vain of it at all yesterday when I went to 
 church. To be sure I had a pair of new shoes, but then 
 they are not so pretty and do not show much, so I did not 
 think of them. Gnstave was not there to tease me, for 
 he had gone to Versailles with papa. "VVe were very 
 sorry not to have papa go to church with us, and when 
 mamma said so to him, he promised to go next Sunday. 
 It is very tiresome not to have dear papa go to church 
 with us, but he does go sometimes, and Clara says her 
 father never goes. When I repeated this to Mademoi 
 selle, she said that little girls must not judge their 
 parents, who might have reasons for what they did which 
 we could not understand. We ought only to pray for 
 them. And I do, every night and morning. I thought, as 
 Gustave was away, that I should be good all day, but I was 
 not at all, but, on the contrary, very cross to my little 
 sisters. First they wanted me to play the goose-game, but
 
 66 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 I said no, it did not amuse me. Then they said they 
 would play whatever I liked, so I proposed a lottery. 
 When they asked me what I would put in it, I said I 
 should put nothing, but they could put in the box of bon 
 bons they had when Cecile's little brother was baptized. 
 Stephanie consented, but Berthe began to grumble at 
 once and say, " But, Maguitte, then I shall gain nothing, 
 for the bonbons are mine now." It was very true, but I 
 grew angry and called her a little fool, and little gour- 
 mande, and tried to take the box away from her. She 
 struggled, and I gave her a great slap to make her give it 
 up. I felt sorry at once when I saw how red her cheek 
 was, but why will she act like a little fury ? Mademoi 
 selle came out of her room, and said that as I was as 
 unreasonable as Berthe, we must stop playing, and she 
 took away the cards. Stephanie said to me, " There, you 
 see, Marguerite, I have done nothing, and yet I am punished 
 too." When my anger had cooled a little, I saw that it 
 was indeed all rny fault, and that I ought to make some 
 amends to Stephanie, so I told her she could have my 
 battledoor and shuttlecock to play with, which pleased her 
 very much. Berthe soon consoled herself by eating her 
 sugar-plums, and, indeed, when she saw I looked unhappy, 
 she came and put one in my mouth. She is a good- 
 hearted little thing. But I felt very unhappy all the rest 
 of the day, and in the evening, when I made my self- 
 examination, as Mademoiselle had taught me, I felt still 
 worse. When I asked myself, " Have you been naughty 
 to-day ? " I had to say " Yes ; " and then, " How have you 
 been naughty, have you teased any one ? " " Yes." " But 
 why ? " " Because I was greedy," which was the truth, for I 
 am very fond of bonbons. " And why did you strike 
 your little sister ? " " Because I was angry." " Well, then,
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 67 
 
 yon see, it is always this wicked anger which comes back. 
 And yet you remember how you promised God to do 
 better." Oh, how miserable it is ! I do not know when I 
 shall ever be good ! 
 
 Tuesday, December 3d 
 
 Yesterday evening Mademoiselle counted my marks for 
 the last month, and I am ashamed to say I had only five 
 more good than bad marks, so I have only gained jive 
 sous for my poor people. I wanted so much to buy a 
 dress for the poor Mariette, but I can never do it with 
 five sous, or even if Stephanie and Berthe give me their 
 money, for they have not much either. Perhaps Gustave 
 will have more, and yet I shall not like it if he has done 
 so much better than I. I have -been very lazy this past 
 month. I could see it myself. Even when Mademoiselle 
 urged me I did not care to work. But I must try and do 
 better now, so that on New Year I can have something to 
 give presents to the poor people. To-day I had excellent 
 marks. 
 
 Wednesday, December, 3d. 
 
 Yesterday evening Gustave was very nice to me. Papa 
 was so pleased with his report for last month that he 
 gave him five francs, which was very different from me. 
 I was ashamed to tell Gustave that I had only five sous, 
 and yet I wanted so much to ask him for some money for 
 the poor, who would otherwise suffer by my idleness. I 
 was afraid he would tease me, as he often does ; but at 
 last I thought it was very cowardly not to acknowledge 
 it, so I said : 
 
 " You ought to be very happy, Gustave, you have 
 studied so well." He began to laugh, and said in a scoff 
 ing way :
 
 68 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 " Pray, how much did you do ?" But when he saw the 
 tears in my eyes, he stopped and said : 
 
 " You will do better this month." 
 
 " Yes," I replied, " but in the meantime the poor have 
 only five soils." 
 
 " That is not much, but if you like I will give you 
 something for them." 
 
 " That was just what I wanted to ask you." 
 
 " Well, how much do you want ? " 
 
 " I do not know, whatever you choose to give." 
 
 " Well, I promise you fourteen sous." Gustave is really 
 very generous, which makes me willing to pardon him 
 for teasing me. 
 
 Friday, December 5th. 
 
 I had a great disappointment for my Thursday. Papa had 
 promised to take me with him to Saint Germain, where he 
 was going to make a visit to a friend, who had a beautiful 
 place there. I felt so happy at the idea of getting away 
 from this tiresome Paris, where one sees the same thing 
 every day, and where one can hardly move without being 
 crushed. I could hardly sleep on Wednesday night after 
 papa told me, for I was so happy. But alas ! in the morn 
 ing I looked out to see such a black sky that one might 
 have thought it was going to pour down ink instead of 
 snow, which is so white. I asked Josephine what she 
 thought of the weather ; but when she said she thought it 
 would storm, I told her she did not know anything about 
 it. This made her angry, and she began to scold me, and 
 I retorted, so that the moment I was dressed I ran away from 
 her, feeling very cross. I went to find Mademoiselle, who 
 said as soon as I came in that she saw there were clouds 
 on my face, as well as in the sky. I replied : " But it is just 
 that, Mademoiselle ; it is because the sky has clouds that I
 
 MAKGTJEKITE IN FKANCE. 69 
 
 have them." Then she asked me if my clouds would pro 
 duce anything good, as those in the sky would. I replied 
 " That I did not see what good those could do, except to dis 
 appoint me." Mademoiselle looked very grave, and said I 
 ought not to speak so of what God had ordered. 
 
 " He does not wish to punish you, my child, but to try you. 
 When God tries us it is always for our good. JSTow He is 
 trying you according to your little strength, for you hoped 
 to-day to have a pleasant day at Saint Germain, which the 
 weather will prevent." 
 
 " Ah, Mademoiselle, do not say so. I am sure the sky is 
 beginning to clear." 
 
 " I do not think so, Marguerite, and so I speak in case 
 your pleasure should be spoiled. This is a trial for you, 
 and if you submit to it pleasantly God will in His kindness 
 remember it." 
 
 And if I do not submit ? " 
 
 " You will still have the trial, and you will lose the 
 merit of submission." 
 
 " Well, it is better to submit, Mademoiselle, but it is hard 
 to do so, for I should have had such a pleasant time. Still, 
 I give it up. But do you think, Mademoiselle, that if it 
 clears I could still go to Saint Germain ? Because, you 
 Bee, then I should already have had the merit of accepting 
 the trial and " 
 
 " And then you would have the pleasure of the expedi 
 tion afterwards ! " replied Mademoiselle, smiling. " Ah, lit 
 tle rogue, I see there is a great deal of hope in your sub 
 mission ! " It was true enough, but I gained no reward save 
 the merit of giving up, and I did not do that as pleasantly as 
 I should, for I felt cross all the morning. If it had not been 
 for Mademoiselle, who encouraged me, I should have had 
 poor marks, too, for my lessons. After breakfast the snow
 
 70 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. , 
 
 began to fall so fast that even papa thought he would riot 
 go ; but as his friend was expecting him he felt obliged to 
 go. I felt like crying when I saw him get into the car 
 riage without me; but Mademoiselle took me into her room, 
 and talked so kindly and pleasantly to me, that I was soon 
 much happier. It always makes me happy to be with her. 
 I was with mamma, too, a good while, as she could not go 
 out either. After all, the horrid snow gave me this pleasure, 
 which I cannot have very often, as my lessons keep me so 
 busy. So my Thursday was not quite without enjoymen 
 
 Monday, December 8th. 
 
 How tiresome it is that I am so fond' of domineering ! 
 But still it makes me very angry to have any one domineer 
 over me. Yesterday Mademoiselle showed me how wrong 
 I was, for when we were play ing* Gustave wanted us to do 
 what he liked, without stopping to ask if we were pleased. 
 This made me angry, but fortunately papa called Gustave 
 away at this moment to take a walk with him. So I soon 
 felt better, and could play as I liked. I began a game of 
 loto, which did not amuse the children very much, as I was 
 obliged to mark for all of us, which was tiresome. But 
 as I had begun it I chose to finish it, and the consequence 
 was a dispute. Mademoiselle had to interfere, and she 
 told me that I was tyrannizing over the children in the 
 same way that I complained of Gustave doing to me. 
 Mademoiselle was right, for when I did not like to plav 
 cards with Gustave, I had forced the children almost im 
 mediately to play loto wdth me. It is, however, because it 
 bores me to do what Gustave likes, while it amuses me to 
 do what I like myself. 
 
 Mademoiselle says that this is natural certainly, but that 
 is no reason why I should give way to such a feeling ; on
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 71 
 
 the contrary, that I should ask for strength to conquer it. 
 It seems very difficult to do so now, but I hope that after 
 my first communion I shall be better. But in the mean 
 time, if I do not try, they will not receive me. So I must 
 ask God at once to help me. Yesterday evening mamma 
 gave us a great lottery-party, and I had some chocolate 
 bonbons for my prize, which were delicious. A good 
 friend of papa, M. Guer, came to see us, and played with 
 us so nicely. 
 
 Wednesday, December 1.0th. 
 
 Yesterday at catechism I had a great disappointment, 
 for Marie and Jeanne were not there. It was sad enough 
 to see their empty places, and besides I had to sit next a little 
 girl whom I do not like at all. She is named Aglae Buff art. 
 She is so affected, and she laughed when I hesitated in say 
 ing my catechism. I could not imagine why Marie was 
 not there, for I knew she would not like to miss this lesson, 
 and she would not know what we were to learn next time. 
 That little Aglae tried-to talk to me, which annoyed me very 
 much, as they might have marked me for bad behavior. I 
 hope I shall not sit next her on Tuesday. I had the second 
 ticket for my analysis. When shall I get the first? 
 
 Friday, December 12th. 
 
 I feel very unhappy, for we have heard that Marie's and 
 Jeanne's grandpapa is very, very ill. Mamma was kind 
 enough to go to M. de Laval's yesterday, when she saw 
 how worried I was. She heard from the porter that M. 
 de Laval had been ill for a week, and that his physician 
 was anxious about him. Mamma wanted very much to 
 see Marie, but she was afraid of disturbing her, as they 
 said she did not leave her grandpapa, so mamma only left 
 her card. She has promised me to send and inquire after
 
 72 MAEGUEEITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 M. de Laval again to-day. Poor Marie, she is indeed 
 tried ! 
 
 Saturday, December I3tk. 
 
 Ah, well, the poor grandpapa is worse, and I cannot help 
 thinking of poor Marie all the time. I am afraid she is up 
 all night now, as she was with her poor mother. She must 
 feel so anxious, too, and Jeanne cannot help her very much, 
 although she, too, loves her grandpapa. Mademoiselle has 
 promised that we shall go ourselves to make inquiries, for 
 we only have had a message through a servant. I can 
 hardly study my lessons, for my thoughts are always going 
 off to Marie and poor M. de LavaL 
 
 Monday, December 15th. 
 
 I have some very sad things to tell, and yet I have had 
 one comfort, for I have seen Marie. On Saturday, during 
 our walk, Mademoiselle and I stopped to inquire after M. 
 de Laval. We learned that his illness was inflammation 
 of the lungs, and they hardly hoped to save him. This 
 gave me such a shock that I grew very pale, and began to 
 cry, so Mademoiselle took me away, after asking the por 
 ter to tell Marie we had called and felt much distressed. 
 When I had recovered a little, Mademoiselle scolded me 
 gently for not having more command over myself. 
 
 "But, Mademoiselle," I cried, " if I could do anything 
 else for Marie it would make me so much happier, and 
 would keep me from crying." 
 
 " I do not know that, Marguerite. If you were, for in 
 stance, to be with Marie, and saw that her grandpapa was 
 dying, what would you do ? " 
 
 " Oh, I should cry, Mademoiselle, for it makes me shud 
 der to think of it."
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 73 
 
 " Then you would not be able to help -Marie. Tour tears 
 would be a comfort to yourself, but a distress to her." 
 
 " But, Mademoiselle, can one prevent one's self from cry 
 ing?" 
 
 " Tes, my child, and at times it is very necessary to do 
 so,- if we want to be of use to others." 
 
 " Ah, Mademoiselle, how I wish you could go to Marie 
 now ! " 
 
 " Both your mamma and I feel we should be only too 
 glad to be near her ; but we feel we. are too much like stran 
 gers to intrude upon her." 
 
 " Oh, what a pity ! " 
 
 " But, no doubt, Marie has some relative or friend with 
 her, who can comfort her at such a time." 
 
 " I think not, Mademoiselle, for none of Marie's mother's 
 relatives are in France, and she told me that M. de Laval 
 had no family now, no one but his grandchildren." 
 . " Well, my child, we will see ; perhaps we shall be able 
 to help these poor little girls in their trouble." 
 
 " Oh, I hope so ; it would make me so much happier." I 
 felt better after this, and could smile and speak pleasantly 
 when we met Cecile Dufon. 
 
 Yesterday, after high mass, mamma, Mademoiselle, and 
 I w*ent to inquire after M. de Laval. The porter told us 
 that Marie had told him to thank us for our visit, and he 
 added that he thought she felt very anxious. Mamma 
 asked him some questions, and he told her that Marie was 
 always with her grandfather, who did not want any one 
 else to nurse him. " Indeed, she is an angel, madame," he 
 said. As we were talking Babet came down-stairs, saying 
 that Jeanne had seen us from the window, and having told 
 Marie, she had sent Babet down to thank us for our kind 
 ness. Mamma told Babet that the only reason we did not
 
 74: MAKGUEEITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 come up was that we were afraid of disturbing Marie, but 
 that I longed to see her. Babet said Marie felt so too, and 
 as her grandpapa was sleeping then she would like us to 
 come upstairs. We followed Babet at once, who took us 
 into the parlor. Marie soon came in, looking much paler 
 than usual, and very sad. Mamma kissed her so affection 
 ately that it brought the tears to her eyes. I could not 
 speak to her. Then Jeanne came in to see us, looking 
 very grave. Mamma told Marie that we were unwilling to 
 
 disturb her when we called before, as we heard she was 
 
 * -\ 
 
 always in her grandpapa's room. 
 
 " I am there as much as possible, madame, but he is 
 sleeping now, and I am afraid to wake him by opening 
 the door." 
 
 " I know how tenderly you nurse him, my child ; but I 
 wanted to say to you that if this illness continues, and you 
 need any one to help or advise you, you must call upon us. 
 We shall be only too happy to assist you." 
 
 " You are very good, madame," said Marie with her 
 sweet voice, " but at present I need no one ; but it is very 
 sad to be alone." 
 
 " Is there no one but yourself with M. de Laval ? " 
 
 " I have a nurse, but grandpapa does not like her very 
 much, although she knows better how to take care of him 
 than I do." 
 
 "Does your brother know of your grandpapa's ill 
 ness ? " 
 
 " My brother will be here in two days, and although I 
 wrote him that grandpapa was ill, I did not like to ask 
 him to come on. I was afraid they would not permit him 
 to come, and then it might make grandpapa anxious to 
 see him here ; he is very uneasy about himself." 
 
 " What does the doctor say 2 "
 
 MAKGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 75 
 
 " He says grandpapa is better, but he has said so every 
 day, even when he was much more ill." 
 
 " What does he prescribe for him ? " 
 
 " We applied blisters and leeches at first, but now the 
 doctor thinks it is not best to worry grandpapa by putting 
 them on." 
 
 " But these blisters relieve him, do they not, or do they 
 annoy him ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; madame, he is used to them, and says he does 
 not feel them now." Poor Marie ! Mamma thinks it very 
 bad that M. de Laval does not feel the blisters, but she did 
 not say so to Marie. She told her that we should come 
 again and inquire, and begged her to let Jeanne or Babet 
 pome and speak to. us. Marie did not cry when we kissed 
 her, but only thanked us again for coming. How sad she 
 looks ! 
 
 Tuesday, December 16th. 
 
 Mademoiselle and I went yesterday to inquire after M. 
 de Laval, but we did not see Marie. Her grandpapa had 
 a violent attack at the moment, and everything was in 
 confusion. The door was open, and we stayed in the 
 anteroom for some time without seeing any one, but at 
 last I saw Jeanne, who was running to get something. I 
 called her, and she ran in for a moment only, as they were 
 waiting for her. " I feel that grandpapa is very bad," 
 she cried, and burst into tears. Then I said : 
 
 " Oh, Jeanne, do not cry, for you want to be able to help 
 Marie." She replied : 
 
 " I do not see how Marie can jlo it, but she muses grand 
 papa without crying a bit, and yet she is just as much 
 grieved as I am." Mademoiselle said : 
 
 " It is because you are younger, my child ; but do not 
 wait here. Dry your eyes, and pray earnestly for your
 
 76 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 dear grandpapa, as we shall do also." We met M. 1'Abbe" 
 Martin on the stairs, and he hurried on when he heard M. 
 de Laval was worse. He had been there also yesterday, 
 and had seen the poor grandpapa. Mademoiselle and I 
 went into Saint Roeh and. prayed earnestly for M. de La 
 val and the little girls. In the evening mamma sent 
 Fran9ois to inquire, and I felt so frightened when he came 
 back. But M. de Laval was much better, and had slept 
 almost ever since the attack had passed. Even papa feels 
 interested in Marie and Jeanne, and made me tell him all 
 about -them. Gustave makes fun of me, and yet as soon 
 as he came home from college he asked, " How is your 
 grandpapa ? " and looked pleased when I said, " Better." 
 
 Wednesday, December YitTi. 
 
 Oh ! I do not want to think that it is all over, and 
 Marie and Jeanne have no longer a grandpapa they 
 who had already lost both father and mother ! We in 
 tended to go yesterday after catechism to inquire after 
 M. de Laval, but I felt comforted about him since they 
 had said he was better. But before the lesson began, 
 M. 1'Abbe Martin said, speaking to us all : 
 
 " My children, you are all here sisters before God. You 
 ought therefore to be interested in each other, and to 
 pray for each other. 1 therefore beg you to remember in 
 your prayers the grandfather of Marie and Jeanne de 
 . ( Laval. I administered to him this morning, and he has 
 I just died." I jumped up, and almost cried out ; but when 
 I saw that every one was looking at me, I fell on my 
 knees- as the others had done. They prayed for M. de 
 Laval, but I cried, and cried so hard that I could not 
 pray. Aglae Buffart looked at me all the time, but that 
 could not keep me from crying. At last I stopped a
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 77 
 
 little, when they began to question us, for I was afraid of 
 not knowing my, lesson. They questioned me the last, 
 but after I began to speak I suddenly thought of Marie, 
 so that I had hardly said two words before I began to 
 sob. Fortunately M. 1'Abbe understood what was the 
 matter, and said very kindly : " You are too distressed, 
 my .child, to go on, so you may sit down and try to 
 compose yourself in praying to God for your little 
 friends." 
 
 I was afraid when I went out that Mademoiselle would 
 scold me for not controlling myself, but she was very 
 much moved herself. She was very good, and tried to 
 comfort me by talking of Marie. As soon as we reached 
 home, we told mamma the sad news, and she was much 
 grieved, but not surprised as I was, as she had not ex 
 pected that M. de Laval would recover. She promised 
 me she would try to see Marie, and all the rest of the 
 day I felt so unhappy and so anxious that I could not 
 study. But I do not think Mademoiselle will give me 
 bad marks, for she saw I did not mean to be idle. 
 
 Mamma came home at six o'clock, and came at once to 
 the school-room where I was arranging my books. As 
 soon as I saw her I ran to her, asking eagerly if she had 
 seen Marie. She said yes, and that she would tell me 
 about her presently, but as it was late I must prepare 
 myself for dinner, and then come to her room while she 
 was dressing. I was ready in ten minutes, and then 
 hurried to mamma's room. She said to me : 
 
 " You were quite right, Marguerite, in loving Marie. 
 She is really lovely, and it is very touching to see her in 
 such heavy sorrow, with so many cares coming upon her." 
 
 I begged mamma to tell me everything, and she said that 
 when she first arrived she found the door open, and hesi-
 
 78 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 tated about entering, when a young man came to speak 
 to her. 
 
 "It was Alberic, mamma," I cried. She said it was, 
 and she liked him very much. He was much darker than 
 Marie, but fine looking. He asked her name, and said he 
 was sure Marie would see her. She found Marie and 
 Jeanne in a small sitting-room, both weeping bitterly, but 
 they came to her at once, and seemed to find comfort in 
 seeing her. Marie had spoken of me, and mamma said 
 she hoped I could see her soon, but that I must try to 
 be composed, which I promised earnestly. She said M. 
 1'Abbe Martin had told her that M. de Laval had died a 
 firm Christian, trusting in God, in whose hands he placed 
 his grandchildren. He felt it a sore trial to leave them so 
 desolate, but he strove to be resigned and hopeful. All 
 three were with him when he died, and he had given 
 them his blessing. Poor Alberic seemed much grieved, 
 and greatly troubled about his sisters, of whom he spoke 
 with much affection. As I had supposed, they have no 
 near relatives in this country, only friends in Paris, who 
 had called and left cards during their grandfather's 
 illness. M. 1'Abbe told mamma he had written to a 
 distant relative of M. de Laval, informing him of the 
 death and the unhappy position of the grandchildren, 
 and he hoped he wo.uld arrive in time for the funeral, 
 although he lived in Orleans. Here we were interrupted 
 by being called to dinner. But in the evening we all 
 talked about Marie, Jeanne, and Alberic. Nothing can be 
 decided about them until the cousin arrives from Orleans. 
 
 Friday, December IQtk. 
 
 On Wednesday mamma went again to see Marie and 
 Jeanne, and they seemed so sad and desolate that mamma
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 79 
 
 begged them to come home with her. But Marie said she 
 could not leave the house as long as her grandpapa was 
 there, although it was a great comfort to her to see mamma. 
 Mamma says that Jeanne can speak of her grief more 
 readily than Marie, as I can well understand, for Marie al 
 ways finds it hard to express what she feels. The cousin 
 arrived on AVednesday night, and yesterday morning the 
 funeral took place. Papa was invited, and went, as I 
 begged he would, which was very good of him. Mamma, 
 Mademoiselle, and 1 went to Mass, and on coming out 
 mamma told me that if I thought I could be composed and 
 quiet, as I had promised, she would take me to see Marie. 
 I promised again, but it made my heart beat fast to think 
 of it. Mamma did not go through the streets we generally 
 take, hoping to avoid the funeral procession, but we did 
 meet it before we reached the house. It brought the tears 
 to my eyes to see the great hearse, with its black hangings, 
 black horses, and attendants all in mourning. Behind the 
 hearse, walking all alone, came a young man, wrapped in 
 a black cloak, who mamma said was Alberic. It made 
 my heart ache to look at him ! When we reached the 
 house, we found it open and all in disorder, as every one 
 had gone to the funeral. There was no one to be seen 
 but the porter's wife, who went up with us to Marie's rooms, 
 where the poor little girls were all alone. Marie was sitting 
 on her bed, with Jeanne beside her, and both weeping bit 
 terly, so that I quite forgot my promise, and running to 
 Marie, I put my arms around her, and cried with her. It 
 did not seem the best way to comfort her, but at first I could 
 do nothing else, and Marie seemed glad to have me, for 
 she held me tightly in her arms. After a few moments I 
 turned to kiss Jeanne, whose tears were falling fast, too, 
 and I was almost afraid to look at mamma and Made-
 
 80 MAKGUEEITE IN FRANCE-. 
 
 moiselle. But I soon saw that their eyes were full of tears. 
 Mamma sat down by Marie, and told' her that we had come 
 to her to try and comfort her at this sad time. Marie 
 tried to thank mamma, but her tears would not let her 
 speak. When mamma saw how agitated she was, she told 
 her that if it would be agreeable to her she would leave 
 Mademoiselle and me with them for a little while, but 
 that she .was obliged to go home herself. Marie said : 
 
 " Oh, we should like so much to have them, but it is too 
 sad for Marguerite." 
 
 "Oh, no, indeed,"! cried, "I would rather be here with 
 you than anywhere else." 
 
 So it was all arranged, and mamma went away, after 
 kissing the little girls tenderly. Jeanne seems already very 
 loud of mamma. When Mademoiselle and I had taken 
 off our bonnets, we all sat down again, and for a few mo 
 ments no one spoke. Then Mademoiselle asked Marie if 
 she would not like us all to pray together for her grand 
 father, as that was the only consolation. Marie accepted 
 at once ; so we all knelt down, while Mademoiselle read the 
 prayers, which seemed to comfort us all. Afterwards 
 Mademoiselle proposed to read from " the Imitation," and 
 she chose the chapter on " the cross, " which seemed writ 
 ten for Marie. Mademoiselle explained it all, so that even 
 Jeanne could understand it. After this Mademoiselle, see a 
 ing a number of letters on a table, askedMarie if she could 
 not help her with them. Marie thanked her, and said they 
 were the letters communicating her grandfather's death to 
 their friends. Alberic had been addressing them. So 
 Mademoiselle soon established herself at the table, with 
 Jeanne to assist her, leaving Marie and myself to talk to 
 each other. Marie begged me to come and sit beside her, and, 
 taking my hand, thanked me for staying with her. I replied :
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 81 
 
 " But, Marie, I do not see why you thank me, for it gives 
 me pleasure to be with you." 
 
 " I see that it is God who has given me this comfort," 
 said Marie, "as Mademoiselle Valniy said. How happy 
 -you are to have her always. She will make you good as 
 she is." 
 
 " I wish I could think so, but I am far from it now." 
 
 " It will come after your first communion." 
 
 " That seems so far off. But, Marie, when will you be 
 ready for yours ? How will you do about your cate 
 chism ?" I felt sorry that I had asked her, for her face 
 changed and she cried : . 
 
 " Oh, I had not thought of it ! And my poor grand 
 papa, who would have been so happy," and- once more her 
 tears fell fast. I tried to comfort her by telling her that 
 I was sure God would arrange it all, and that mamma 
 and Mademoiselle would help her in every way. I then 
 asked her if' Alberic was to stay with them a little while. 
 
 " Yes, I think so," said Marie. " He reached here before 
 grandpapa died, and now he does not want to go back 
 until it is decided where we are to go. Poor Alberic ! he 
 is so distressed that if he had not so much to do, he 
 would give way, I fear, under so much grief and anxiety." 
 
 " Do you not think, dear Marie, that it would make you 
 feel better to occupy yourself ? " 
 
 "Yes, I think so; but just now my strength seems all 
 gone." At these words she grew so pale that I felt 
 frightened, and said : 
 
 " Pray lie down, dear Marie, and rest a little. I will 
 sit beside you, and perhaps you will sleep." Marie 
 thought she could not sleep, but was glad to lie down, for 
 her poor head was so hot it felt burning as I put my 
 hand upon it. I covered her and arranged her pillow,
 
 82 MAKGUEEITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 and then seeing she could not sleep, I proposed that we 
 should tell our beads together for her grandfather, to 
 which she agreed gladly. We began together, but after 
 a few moments I did not hear Marie's voice, and seeing 
 her eyes were closed, I finished the prayers in a low voice 
 by myself. Gustave would have been surprised to see 
 me keep so quiet ! I was so happy to see Marie sleeping 
 that I did not feel the least wish to move. Unhappily 
 she did not sleep long, but soon began to sob and toss, 
 and suddenly opening her eyes, she said, " Where is 
 grandpapa ? " I was so shocked I could not speak, but in 
 a moment she remembered, and burst into tears. I bent 
 over her, and with kisses and all sorts of loving words, 
 begged her not to cry, telling her how much it grieved 
 me. She soon felt more quiet, and very soon mamma 
 came back for us. We felt more comforted to leave them, 
 as Alberic had returned, and seemed so kind and tender 
 to his sisters. 
 
 Saturday, December 20th. 
 
 They have decided that Marie and Jeanne should be 
 placed in a convent. That seems very sad to me, and I 
 am so disappointed, for I had hoped so much that Marie 
 could come here and be my sister ! But when I asked 
 mamma why the two little girls could not come and live 
 with us, now they were all alone in the world, she said it 
 was impossible. She could not take such a responsibility, 
 and besides our approaching journey was another objec 
 tion. I could not understand, but Mademoiselle says I 
 must not urge mamma any more, for it makes her feel 
 badly to say " no " to me. Yesterday, after lunch, I went 
 with Mademoiselle to see Marie. We found her much 
 braver than the day before, although still very pale and 
 Bad. Jeanne did not look very sad, and she even laughed
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 83 
 
 several times, which surprised me, but then she is such a 
 child ! Marie was busy in putting the house in order a 
 little, but she said it made her feel very badly, for she 
 was not allowed to touch anything of her grandfather's, 
 as seals had been put on everything. They have had a 
 family council. There were not many of the family, as 
 the cousin is the only relative, but there were also some 
 friends. The cousin was appointed guardian for the 
 ckildren in Francfe, as their real guardian is the uncle in 
 Bourbon. The cousin said that he would undertake the 
 charge of the children's property, but that he could not 
 take charge of them or their education. As he did not 
 live in Paris, he did not know where it was best to place 
 them. M. 1'Abbe Martin, who was at the council, then 
 said that he was sure mamma would be very happy to 
 make the proper inquiries. So it was decided that the 
 little girls should go to some convent for their education. 
 They concluded, too, to write to M. de La Gaze at once, 
 and so Alberic, M. 1'Abbe, and the cousin all wrote. Ah, 
 how sad it is to lose all one's relatives ! Marie and Jeanne 
 say they are .quite willing to go into the convent, and in 
 deed Jeanne seems quite amused at the idea. I should 
 not like it at all. 
 
 Monday, December 22d. 
 
 I have a great deal to say, but I do not know if I shall 
 be very patient about writing, for Marie is sitting beside 
 me with her work, and it would be much nicer to talk to 
 her. She wants me to let her see my journal, but I can- 
 not bear to think of all she will see in it ; still I shall show 
 it to her, for I love her so very, very much. But I must 
 begin. 
 
 .On Saturday mamma took me again to see Marie, 
 and there we saw the big cousin. (I hope Marie will not
 
 84 MAKGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 mind this, as she does not know him very well.) I do not 
 think the cousin is very pleasant, for he does not seem to 
 think of any one but himself. He talked for nearly an 
 hour to mamma about a bad cold he had taken on his 
 journey, and yet he did not cough nearly as often as 
 mamma. Mamma was very pleasant to him, which sur 
 prised me, but then she is always pleasant to every one. 
 Suddenly I heard her ask him if he would allow Marie 
 and Jeanne to come and stay with us for a few days, until 
 a suitable school could be found for them. I was so 
 delighted, and then so afraid the big cousin would refuse. 
 But he seemed very much pleased, and said, " You are 
 really too good, madam. You can imagine that I do not 
 undertsand playing mother very well," and then he 
 lawghed with his great, coarse voice. But Marie did not 
 laugh, for the tears came into her eyes. Both she and 
 Jeanne seemed very glad to come to us, and Alberic said 
 he should be much easier to think his sisters were in 
 mamma's care. I feel a little afraid of Alberic, he is so 
 large, but mamma says he is a fine young man. It was 
 soon arranged that Marie, Jeanne, and old Babet should 
 come to us on Sunday after Mass. It made Marie feel 
 very sad to leave her grandfather's house, and before she 
 came away she went to M. de Laval's room, and prayed 
 beside the bed where he had died. Mamma has given 
 my room to the two sisters, and I have gone into the room 
 with Stephanie and Berthe. It makes me so happy to 
 give my room to Marie ! Last evening it was so pleasant 
 to have them with us, but it must have been very sad for 
 Marie. This morning she came into the school-room 
 while I was saying my lessons. She says I am more for 
 ward than she is, but I am sure it is only modesty that 
 makes her say so, for she embroiders so much better than
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 85 
 
 I do. Mademoiselle has proposed to her to study a little, 
 and I do hope she will say " Yes." 
 
 Wednesday, December 24th. 
 
 Yesterday I went to the Catechism Glass, but Marie and 
 Jeanne did not go, although we studied the lesson to 
 gether. Aglae Buff art was very disagreeable. She always 
 looks as if she were making fun of me, and she stares at 
 me all the time. I wish M. 1'Abbe Martin would speak to 
 her. How good M 1'Abbe is ! He came yesterday to see 
 Marie and Jeanne, and as mamma was out, he came up into 
 the school-room, where we were with Mademoiselle. He 
 spoke as kindly to Marie as if he had been her father, and 
 it was a pleasure to hear him. He said very nice things, 
 too, of mamma, telling Marie she ought to be thankful to 
 God", " who had placed in her way a mother's heart to 
 cherish and shelter her," and he added, " and who seems to 
 have given you another tender sister." As lie looked at me 
 he asked, " Is it not so, my child ? " and I replied, " Oh, no, 
 monsieur, not at all, for it does not seem so, but it is so real 
 ly." Ho smiled, and Marie too, but I could not understand 
 why, until afterwards, when Mademoiselle explained that 
 it was because I had said "JVo" M. 1'Abbe talked some time 
 with Mademoiselle about the school for Marie and Jeanne, 
 as he is making inquiries as well as mamma. Yesterday 
 evening there was a great quarrel between Jeanne and 
 Berthe ; even Stephanie did not like it, when she saw that 
 Jeanne tried to force Berthe to give up, and pushed her so 
 roughly that she made her cry. Marie did what she could 
 to stop Jeanne, but it was very difficult. I am so glad 
 that I have not been angry for a long time. In the even 
 ing Marie and I had our sewing, for Mademoiselle is show 
 ing us how to make some baby clothes for a poor woman.
 
 86 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 Gustave was drawing, and Jeanne played cards with Ste 
 phanie and Berthe. It was all very pleasant. Gustave is 
 very kind now; he does not tease me any more. I suppose 
 he does not dare to do it before Marie. I forgot to say 
 that Alberic went back on Sunday evening. 
 
 Friday, December 26th. 
 
 We were all at Mass yesterday, as it was Christmas Day. 
 Papa went with us; so, with Marie and Jeanne, we had a 
 large family. No one was left at iiome but our baby. 
 The children behaved very well, only Berthe did not want 
 to get down from her seat, on which she stood on tiptoe 
 in order to see the altar. As for Stephanie, she looked 
 like a little angel, and Marie said afterwards she had 
 never seen a child pray so earnestly. Mademoiselle talked 
 to us so nicely on Wednesday evening about Christmas. 
 Even Berthe was interested, and said every now and then : 
 " Oh, the dear little Jesus, how I wish I could see Him ! " 
 Mademoiselle told us how the world was waiting for our 
 Lord, for the Jews knew, both from God and from the 
 Prophets, that " the Messiah " was to come. And the rest 
 of the world, although they had forgotten God, and wor 
 shipped idols, still looked for the coming of a Saviour. 
 Mademoiselle told us how the Holy Virgin and Saint 
 Joseph had gone to Bethlehem, and how the little Jesus 
 had been born in a stable. I remember when I was a lit 
 tle girl feeling much troubled at this, for I should have 
 liked Him to be born in a splendid palace and laid in a 
 beautiful cradle, and Berthe said so too. But Mademoi 
 selle said that although the little Jesus could have had 
 anything He chose, since all belonged to Him, yet He had 
 chosen a manger, in order to teach us not to think so much 
 of what is pretty and comfortable, and not to complain
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 87 
 
 when we do not have them. I do not explain well all that 
 Mademoiselle said, but Berthe seemed to understand that 
 she ought not to grumble so much, as she does when any 
 thing troubles her, or when she is washed. She made all 
 sorts of promises to Mademoiselle, and finished by saying : 
 " I Mall never grumble again in my little bed, and even, if 
 the good little Jesus wishes it, 1 will leave it and go to 
 sleep with you." As for us, Mademoiselle showed us how 
 we ought to be humble, obedient, and good, since the Son 
 of God had become as a little child, in order to teach us. I 
 feel as if I had done nothing, and I have so many bless 
 ings, all that I want, and kind, tender friends. Poor Marie 
 has been tried, but 1 have had so few trials, and I feel as 
 if I had done nothing for Jesus, and that lie cannot love 
 me. We went to the " Hail Mary" in the evening, and 
 it was beautiful. The altar was all illuminated and made 
 me think of the light which had shone round about the 
 shepherds. And then there was such beautiful music, 
 that might have been like the song of praise which the 
 angels chanted " Glory to God in the highest." In the 
 evening I was very much annoyed at Berthe, and nearly 
 lost my temper, but happily I remembered my good reso 
 lutions, and stopped. To-day is Stephanie's birthday, and 
 I had a pretty little box for her, while Gustave gave her a 
 pair of scissors indeed, every one had a gift for her, and 
 she was delighted. 
 
 Monday, December 29t7i. 
 
 I am so.unhappy, for I have been naughty again, and so 
 near to the Christmas festival and before Marie, too ! It 
 was Gustave's fault, and I am not a bit sorry that we are 
 going to leave him in France. But no, I am ashamed to 
 speak so, for after all the blame is all ,my own. It hap-
 
 88 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 pened on Sunday too, which is so often my bad day. "We 
 went to Mass in the morning, and there I did not pray as 
 I should, for I kept looking at Aglae Buffart, who was 
 there with her mamma. When we came home, mamma 
 told Marie and Jeanne that after breakfast she wanted to 
 .take them to a convent of which M. 1'Abbe Martin had 
 spoken to her. She had been there herself, but she did 
 not want to make any decision about it, or write to their 
 cousin, until the little girls had been there themselves. 
 This made me provoked, because I did not want to stay at 
 home without them, although Mademoiselle kindly offered 
 to walk with me. When Gustave saw my ill-humored 
 face, he began at once to laugh, and make fun of me. I 
 replied very crossly, and when he only laughed more, I be 
 gan to stamp my feet. At this he stopped and exclaimed : 
 " I shall fly, as I see the fever is seizing you, and I do not 
 want this attack on my conscience." 
 
 lie went away, but I still felt very cross and sulky, 
 and spoke very impatiently to Stephanie and Berthe, when 
 they begged me to play with them. I would not lend them 
 either my hoop or my skipping-rope, and I could see that 
 Babet looked .at me in surprise. Jeanne annoys Marie 
 sometimes I know, for I have seen her grow quite red 
 when Jeanne asked the samejjuestion a great many times, 
 but then she never loses her temper as I do. Then, just 
 as I was going out with Mademoiselle, who should arrive 
 but Clara with Mile. Levins. It was too much ! As I had 
 my hat on already, Mile. Levins wanted to take Clara 
 away, but Mademoiselle said, " Certainly not ; Marguerite 
 can still have her walk by going into the garden with Clara." 
 I did not dare to refuse, but I felt very cross, so I took 
 Clara down into the garden. She saw I did not feel 
 amiably, and said to me :
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 89 
 
 "Does it fret you very much, Marguerite, to give up your 
 walk?" 
 
 " Oh, not at all," I replied, but then, as it was an untruth, 
 I added, " at least I have to submit to it." Clara said : 
 
 " If I had known, I would not have come, and mamma 
 would have taken me to the boulevard." Then I said : ' 
 
 "It has been freezing to-day, and you would have had 
 beautiful weather." At this Clara was very much annoyed, 
 and said : 
 
 " Very well, I shall go and ask Mademoiselle to take 
 me away." But I was afraid of my Mademoiselle, and 
 would not let her go, so we walked about for nearly an 
 hour, and we had a very stupid time. When Mile. Levins 
 called Clara, I was very glad to say good-by to her. I 
 still hoped to have my walk, but Mademoiselle said it was 
 too late to go. I felt cross enough already, and Gustave 
 chose just this moment to begin teasing me again, and was 
 unkind enough, too, to tell me all the fine things he had 
 seen in the gardens of the Tuileries. Then my anger 
 broke out, and I caught hold of him to strike him, when 
 at that moment mamma walked in with Marie and Jeannie. 
 I had not heard the bell, for I had been so angry. I 
 felt so ashamed when I saw Marie that I stopped at once, 
 but I was still very red, and my eyes were flashing. Mamma 
 said sadly: 
 
 "What is the matter, Marguerite?" I could not answer, 
 but Gustave said very generously: 
 
 " Oh, we were playing at fighting." But I felt this was 
 untrue, so I cried: 
 
 " JSTo, mamma, it is I who am in a rage again ! I am 
 ashamed to say so before Marie, but it is the truth." 
 Mamma said: 
 
 " Your frankness makes some amends, my child ; but when
 
 90 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 will you learn to control your temper ? " She went away 
 and left me, feeling terribly ashamed. I did not know 
 what to do, but at last resolved to run to Mademoiselle and 
 confess all to her. I told her how naughty I had been all 
 day, and she scolded me gently, saying slie had noticed 
 my ill-humor, but thought I was trying to conquer it. 
 
 '" Oh, Mademoiselle," I cried, " I wanted to ask God to 
 help me, but when I am so angry I cannot pray." 
 
 " That is just the time when you need His help. You 
 must try to say something, if only a few words. If you 
 cry with all your heart, ' Lord, have mercy upon me,' He 
 will surely hear you." 
 
 " Oh, Mademoiselle, how good you are to console me 
 always, and when I am naughty in the same way over 
 and over again. 
 
 " Well, my child, try only every day to conquer yourself, 
 and in the end you will succeed." 
 
 " I am going to begin to try again, Mademoiselle, so 
 please kiss me, and say you are not angry with me." She 
 kissed me kindly, which made me feel happier, so I ran at 
 once to mamma to tell her I was good again, which pleased 
 her very much. But what was more difficult was to see 
 Marie again. She seemed afraid to look at me, when I 
 went to call her to dinner. I thought I had better speak 
 at once, so I said : 
 
 " I am sure you cannot love me any more, Marie, now 
 you see how naughty I am." She replied : 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I love you always." She stopped, and I said : 
 
 " Listen, Marie. I know I have been very naughty, for I 
 was in a rage, and I am sorry to say I am often so, but I 
 mean to try and do better. Mademoiselle tells me God 
 will pardon me, if I am sorry, and she and mamma have 
 both kissed me. Are you unwilling to do so ? That would
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. * 91 
 
 make me too unhappy ! " That good Marie came and 
 kissed me at once, saying : 
 
 " Oh, it is not for me to be unwilling, when I have so 
 many faults, and am not willing to own them as you do." 
 
 " Marie, I am sure you have no faults ; you only say that 
 to comfort me." 
 
 " No, Marguerite, it is the truth, and I will tell you at 
 once, so that you will see I am no better than you." Then 
 she grew very red as she said very softly : " 1 am very 
 proud." 
 
 " Oh, Marie, and of what ? " 
 
 " I do not know," she said, reddening still more, "but I do 
 not like a reproach, or a joke, nor even a simple advice ; it 
 irritates me, and my dear mamma often told me of it." 
 
 "But you are not proud now, Marie, so why do you re 
 proach yourself ? " She replied sadly : 
 
 " Perhaps I do not feel my pride, since there is no one 
 now to find fault with me. But there is no great merit 
 then in not getting angry." 
 
 " Oh, Marie, I cannot imagine that you could ever get 
 angry ! But in the convent there will be some one to 
 correct you." 
 
 " Yes, certainly ; and I hope to grow better." Here the 
 dinner-bell rang, and we went down ; I feel a little consoled 
 to think that Marie has some faults, and yet it is sad that 
 every one has them. 
 
 Wednesday, December 31st. 
 
 * I went to the catechism class yesterday with Marie and 
 I Jeanne. It was the first time they had been since their 
 grandfather's death, and they both felt it very much ; they 
 will not go again, since it has been decided that they 
 shall go to the convent. I felt so happy to be with them, 
 and felt, too, that all the other little girls must envy me
 
 92 ' MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 for being their friend. Marie and Jeanne are to go to the 
 convent on the Monday after New Year's Bay, and I 
 shall be so sorry to part with them ! Marie and I have 
 been studying together lately, whic^h has been very pleasant. 
 Marie was right when she said 1 was more advanced in 
 my lessons than she was, and it seems so strange to me. 
 In writing " dietee " she has always more faults than I have, 
 and Jeanne, too, makes many more mistakes than Stephanie ; 
 indeed, she is not much ahead of Berthe. Marie says that 
 in the colonies people do not take much pains in the 
 education of the children, who are allowed to do pretty 
 much as they like, that there are several good schools now 
 in the capital of Bourbon, but the children learn very little, 
 being so much spoiled and made lazy, too, by the climate. 
 Marie says, too, that her mother had had so much sorrow 
 and ill health that she had been obliged to neglect .their 
 education, which had distressed her very often. I can see 
 that it wounds Marie's pride, too, to be so backward. To 
 day we shall not have much studying, for we have to visit 
 our poor people and go to church. I want to finish the 
 slippers I am making as my gift to papa, and fortunately 
 there are only a few rows to do. The cuffs I have em 
 broidered for mamma have been finished for some time, 
 and I have made a little bead purse for Mademoiselle, 
 which I hope she knows nothing about, as I have always 
 worked on it in mamma's room. Neither papa nor mamma 
 have any idea of what I have made for them. How nice 
 it will be to surprise them ! Stephanie has written a very 
 nice copy-book, and Berthe has insisted in doing the same 
 thing, and a strange-looking thing it is ! It is written in 
 huge letters, very bla*k. and she made Mademoiselle write 
 her copy in these words : " My dear papa, my dear mamma, 
 give me some presents," which certainly was not a very
 
 MAKGUEEITB IN FEANCE. 93 
 
 polite demand! As for. Stephanie, she, too, has some 
 funny notions ; she is rather lazy, and grumbles every morn 
 ing at having to get up, especially if it is cold. So some 
 time ago she begged mamma to let her stay one whole day 
 in bed. Mamma was very much amused, and told she should 
 have the permission for her New Year's present. Stephanie 
 was delighted, and has been counting the days with impa 
 tience. I wonder if she will really like to spend the day 
 in bed. I am afraid that it makes Marie sad to see me 
 making my preparations ; she would have been so happy in 
 doing the same for her mother and grandfather. Mamma 
 has invited Clara and Cecile to spend the day with me, and 
 she would have asked some other little girls and some 
 frrendsof Gustave, but she thought it would not be pleasant 
 for Marie and Jeanne in their deep mourning. Mademoi 
 selle has j ust. counted our notes, and this month I have gained 
 fourteen sous, so with the money that Gustave, Stephanie 
 and'JBerthe will give me I shall have six francs for the 
 poor, and. mamma has promised me something too. Im 
 mediately after breakfast Mademoiselle and I are to go 
 and buy our presents for the poor,, and then I am to go to 
 confession. Mademoiselle directed my self-examination 
 last evening, and I am grieved to see how many faults I 
 have committed. I hope next year will see a better 
 account. 
 
 Friday, January 2d. 
 
 Oh, what a pleasant day I had yesterday, except that 
 Marie was so sad ; still it was so nice to have her with me ! 
 Mademoiselle has given me holiday to-day too, so I shall 
 have plenty of time for my journal. After breakfast on 
 Wednesday I went with Mademoiselle to a large store to 
 buy several things for our poor people. Mamma had 
 given me ten francs, which was really a fortune ! At first
 
 94: MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 I was puzzled what to choose, but Mademoiselle helped 
 ' me very kindly. So we took some pretty blue and white 
 calico to make dresses for the big Mariette and her little 
 sister, then a neck-kerchief for good Fra^oise, their 
 mother. I could buy nothing for the husband, poor Pierre, 
 because men's clothes are too dear. Besides, we bought a 
 woollen jacket for oldMorande, and woollen stockings for 
 her little girl, who sometimes cries with cold feet. Then 
 we chose an apron of black stuff for the little daughter of . 
 a mason, who was killed last year in our street by falling 
 from a scaffolding, and two caps for the little boys. Lastly 
 we bought a pound of barley-sugar to distribute amongst 
 all the children, and then I had not a sou left, for 
 indeed Mademoiselle had had to give me a little from her 
 own purse. We went to see old Morande first, as her 
 jacket made such a bulky parcel. I felt so. glad when 
 good old Morande said to me : " May God bless you, my 
 child." Oh, how happy Fran 90186 was to see the dresses 
 for her children ; she really cried for joy ; but the big 
 Mariette laughed and hugged her dress in her arms, crying : 
 " Oh, my pretty pretty dress ; " as for the little one, she was 
 delighted with only the barley-sugar. They seem to 
 be very poor, but their room is always clean, as they are 
 themselves. They were cooking their dinner, a soup of 
 potatoes and beans, and it seemed to be very nice. When 
 P think what nice dinners I have to eat, and these poor 
 people have only soup, into which they cannot afford to 
 put even a piece of butter ! After this we went to see the 
 mason's poor widow, who seems very unhappy, and cries 
 whenever she speaks of her husband. She said : " Oh, if he 
 were not dead, my children should always have bread, and 
 I should not have to live upon charity." Mademoiselle 
 tried to comfort her, but she said the New Year's Day
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. ^ 95 
 
 V 
 
 made her more unhappy, for every one else was gay. It 
 had made me so unhappy to think that all these little 
 children could never have any toys, that I made a plan to 
 give them some without spending any money. I asked 
 Stephanie and Berthe, who gladly brought some of their old 
 toys (indeed Stephanie would have given any thing, even her 
 pretty doll), 'and with some of mine we had enough to send 
 something to each child. Gustave gave us a drum and an 
 old sword, and as Marie and Jeanne had no toys, they sent 
 a little money for the mothers. I never was so happy in 
 my life ! After we had finished our poor-visits Made 
 moiselle took me to confession. How kindly the priest 
 spoke to me, and I promised I would try to do better for . 
 the next year. That night when we were going to bed 1 
 asked mamma, at what time I could come to her room in 
 the morning ; she replied, " as early as possible." Stephanie 
 said she could not come, as it was her day to stay in bed. 
 " What," said mamma, " would }'ou really rather sleep than 
 come to kiss your mother ? " Stephanie seemed disturbed, 
 but she had counted upon this indulgence for so long, that 
 she did not like to give it up, so she replied : 
 
 "Ah, dear little mamma, you will come to see me, for 
 you know you promised I could stay in bed." 
 
 " I will not take back my promise," said mamma, " but 
 I am afraid you will not have as much pleasure as you 
 think, still I will come and kiss you." Stephanie was 
 satisfied, so we went up stairs. Before she went to bed, 
 Stephanie put her writing-book under her pillow so as to- 
 have it ready when mamma came to her. Mademoiselle 
 made us say our prayers together, telling us to thank God 
 with all our hearts for his benefits, and asking Him to 
 pardon our sins. She spoke so kindly too, to Marie and 
 Jeanne, telling them that since they had no parents to
 
 96 MAHGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 embrace, the next morning, they must turn to God, and 
 feel that He would be to them as father and mother, pro 
 tecting and caring for them, everywhere and always. It 
 was sweet to see Mademoiselle with Jeanne on her lap, 
 and Marie standing beside her with her pale sad face. 
 Mademoiselle put her arms around Marie, and I heard 
 her whisper : " You must come to me, my child, for I too 
 have lost my parents, and know what you suffer." It 
 made me feel badly to think that Mademoiselle should 
 talk to Marie of her parents, and she has never spoken of 
 them to me. I love her so well, I am sure I could under 
 stand her sorrow. 
 
 The next morning I waked up very, very early, and look 
 ing to see if Stephanie and Berthe were awake, I found 
 they were both sleeping soundly. Josephine was not 
 quite ready to dress me, which made me a little cross, but 
 I remembered my confession, and kneeling down to say 
 my prayers, I asked God to help me to be patient. When 
 I was partly dressed Josephine took up Berthe, who 
 struggled and grumbled as usual. Indeed she made such 
 a hubbub when she was washed, that she waked up 
 Stephanie. I said " good-morning " to her, and asked her 
 if she did not mean to get up, but she said no, that her 
 bed was very warm, and that she was glad enough to stay 
 there. " Very well," I said, " go to sleep again," but Berthe 
 made too much noise, which annoyed Stephanie greatly. 
 At last the little plague was ready, and we were just run 
 ning off to mamma, when Stephanie called out, " Here, 
 take my copy-book. I would rather have you give it to 
 mamma, and kiss her and papa for me." I promised, but 
 I told her I thought it would be very poor enjoyment to 
 stay in bed all day. 
 
 When Berthe and I reached mamma's room, we found
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 97 
 
 that horrid Gnstave had been before us, and even then 
 Berthe pushed past me, and jumping on the bed, cried, 
 " Happy New Year ! Happy New Year ! my little mother ! 
 Where are my presents V I felt quite ashamed of her, 
 but then she is so little ! Then without waiting, she 
 handed her great page of writing to mamma, who pre 
 tended to be delighted with it, while she held out her 
 arms to me. Ah! how I kissed her, and wished her 
 " Happy New Year " in my turn. But I think she had 
 been crying, and Gustavo's eyes too were red, although 
 he turned away quickly when we came into the room. I 
 gave my cuffs to mamma, who praised them kindly, and 
 then I told Berthe to repeat the history of Joseph, which 
 she did very sweetly. When I gave mamma Stephanie's 
 copy-book, she asked if Stephanie was still asleep, and I 
 think she felt sorry not to see her with us. As Berthe 
 was still begging for her presents, mamma took off the 
 bed a little parcel and gave her, which, upon being opened, 
 showed a pretty box containing a lovely tea-set in gilded 
 china. Berthe was so delighted that she nearly broke 
 the whole thing by bouncing off the bed. When she had 
 kissed mamma, she hurried off eagerly to show her treasures 
 to Josephine and Stephanie. She fell on the stairs, and 
 broke one of her saucers, which made her desperately 
 unhappy. When she was gone, mamma told me to come 
 and sit beside her on the bed, looking at me meanwhile 
 with tears in her eyes. I bent over her and asked softly : 
 
 " Why do you cry, mamma ? " 
 
 " Ah, Marguerite," she said, " you will have to console me 
 next year." Then I understood what she meant, for she 
 felt that on the next New Years Day Gnstave would not 
 be with us. I replied at once : 
 
 " Yes, indeed, dear mamma, I will console you, for I
 
 08 MAKGUEEITE IN FKANCE. 
 
 will try to be so very, very good. And then we can talk 
 of Gustave together." 
 
 " But," said mamma, smiling, " I am afraid I shall not 
 hear much good said then, since you quarrel so often." 
 
 " Oh, mamma, do not say so. It is true that we quarrel, 
 because Gustave will tease me, but that is for last year ; 
 this year I have promised God not to get angry with 
 Gustave. I shall be very sorry to leave Gustave, for I 
 really do love him." 
 
 " That is right, Marguerite, your brother has faults, but 
 he has very fine qualities too. He loves me very dearly, 
 and the poor boy will suffer very much in being separated 
 from us all." 
 
 " From me too, do you think, mamma ? " 
 
 " Certainly, my child, we were speaking just now of the 
 coming parting, and when I mentioned you, I could see 
 how badly he felt." 
 
 " Oh, mamma, you think he loves me really ? " 
 
 " He loves you very much, Marguerite, and if he does 
 not show it, it is perhaps because you do not give him 
 much affection either." 
 
 " What shall I do then ? I should like him to know 
 that I love him, but if I were to speak to him about it 
 he would laugh at me." 
 
 " You must do better than speaking, my child, you must 
 prove your affection. Try to be always amiable with 
 him, take his teasing pleasantly, and be always ready to 
 do him some little service. You will soon see that he 
 understands and likes such a change." 
 
 " Oh, mamma, indeed, I will try." 
 
 " It will be a great comfort to me, Marguerite, for then I 
 can feel that even if my children are separated, they still 
 love each other, and will rejoice to be together again."
 
 MAKGUEKITE IX FRANCE. 99 
 
 As I kissed and promised her, nurse came in, bringing 
 baby to see mamma. How sweetly he looked in his new 
 blue and white suit, but he is always a little pale. 
 Mamma took him in her arms, and kissing him, said to me : 
 
 " Ask God to let us keep him. lie looks too much like 
 an angel ! " Mamma looked very sad, but nurse began 
 to tell us how baby had really said " mamma " quite 
 plainly this morning. And at that moment he repeated it 
 over and over again, which made us all laugh. Mamma 
 gave nurse a nice dress for her present, and to me she 
 gave such a lovely little work-box, with thimble, scissors, 
 needle-case, stiletto and bodkin, all in mother-of-pearl and 
 gold. It was just what I wanted, how could mamma 
 have known it ! Papa came in, and I ran to kiss him, 
 and give him my slippers, which pleased him very much. 
 He gave me a pretty little parasol, with a carved ivory 
 stick, which delighted me. But I must stop for to-day. 
 I. am too tired. 
 
 Satiirday, January d. 
 
 Now 1 must continue the history of New Year's Day. 
 I ran next to Mademoiselle, who was expecting me, and 
 had such a surprise for me. It was such a beautiful pa- 
 peterie, full of note-paper of different sizes, and marked 
 with my initials. There were plenty of envelopes too, and 
 wax to seal them with, all so pretty ! 1 was delighted, for 
 I wanted some nice paper so much in order to write to 
 Marie and G-ustave from India. I gave my little purse to 
 Mademoiselle, and it surprised and pleased her very much. 
 I stayed a little while with her, and then went to look for 
 Marie, as Mademoiselle begged me to bring the two sisters 
 to her room after they had been to mamma. I found 
 Marie looking pale and sad, but she kissed me warmly, 
 and said she had just had a very nice letter from Alberic.
 
 100 MAKGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 After she and Jeanne had gone to Mademoiselle, I went 
 to see if Stephanie were still asleep. The poor child was 
 turning over and aver in bed, because Berthe was making 
 such a racket, and she begged me to come and tell her all 
 I had done. I think she was very tired of her bed. But 
 she was ashamed to say so. Mamma came up to see her 
 before going to Mass, and brought her presents, a nice lit 
 tle kitchen with all the necessary utensils, and a little gold 
 cross, such as papa gave me last year. Stephanie was 
 greatly pleased, and said her piece of poetry very nicely. 
 Mamma said afterwards that she thought the poor child 
 was Very sorry she had asked to stay in bed. After break 
 fast we all went to the school-room. Marie and Jeanne 
 had presents too, for mamma had given Marie some books, 
 and Jeanne a pretty doll. Cecile Dufon arrived very soon, 
 and began to make a great hubbub with Jeanne and Berthe. 
 At last Clara came. She was so stiff and full of airs to 
 wards Marie that it made me very uncomfortable, and I 
 am afraid I should have -been rude to her, if Mademoi 
 selle had not cautioned me in English. Mamma had a 
 beautiful lunch laid for us in the dining-room, and she 
 was just doing the honors herself for us, when she was 
 called to the parlor to see some friends. Mademoiselle 
 was up-stairs, and I had a sad time keeping all the chil 
 dren in order ; Clara did not make much noise, to be sure, 
 but she was very disagreeable, talking all the time about 
 the beautiful presents she had had, as if to show us how 
 few we had. After lunch Marie went up to see baby, 
 and Jeanne went to comfort Stephanie, so I said to Clara 
 and Cecile that we must not talk too much about our 
 mothers before Marie, for it made her so unhappy. 
 
 " But, my dear," said Clara, " what shall we talk about 
 then?"
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 101 
 
 " I do not know, but about other tilings," Ceeile cried. 
 
 " But, my dear girl, we cannot talk of anything but pre 
 sents on New Year's Day, and our mothers always give 
 them to us." 
 
 " Well, let us talk about them when Marie is not here." 
 
 " Oh, your Marie," said Clara disdainfully. " I do not like 
 her at all, she looks so affected, with her sentimental pale 
 face ! " Cecile burst out laughing and said : 
 
 " That is very true." 1 was so angry. I exclaimed : 
 
 " How can you say so, Clara ? If Marie is pale, it is be 
 cause she has lost her mother, and her good grandpapa 
 too, and it is not kind-hearted of you to make fun of 
 her ! " 
 
 " Oh, dear," replied Clara, " you are always talking about 
 hearts here ; mamma says so herself. It makes you seem 
 almost as affected as your Marie." 
 
 " You are very unkind, Clara, and you ought not to talk 
 about being affected. But I do not care, for I am very 
 glad to be like Marie. Besides, it is right to talk about 
 hearts, and to have a good one, for Mademoiselle says so." 
 
 " Oh, I did not say it was your fault," said Clara. 
 
 " But it is not a fault at all." 
 
 " Oh, dear," said Cecile to me, " do not get angry because 
 Mile. Valmy is attacked ; at school we say all sorts of things 
 'against our teachers." 
 
 "But, Cecile, that is very wicked," I cried. 
 
 " It is no use to talk to Marguerite," said Clara, " she is a 
 little saint, and is always talking about heaven. She goes to 
 confession too every month, which does not prevent her 
 however from getting in a rage now and then." I felt very 
 much like one then, but I made an effort and only said : 
 
 " I arn not a saint, and unhappily I do get into a rage 
 sometimes, but I am trying to correct myself."
 
 102 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 " "Well, I am thankful that 1 never get into a rage," said 
 Clara. 
 
 " But you have other faults, and if you do not correct 
 them you will not go to heaven." 
 
 " Fortunately, my dear, that is not for you to decide. But 
 do not trouble yourself. Mamma does not think me so 
 very bad. She thinks I have a good heart, although she is 
 not always using large words, like your mamma." 
 
 " So you attack even mamma ? " 
 
 " Oh, not at all ; she is charming and very stylish, as 
 every one says." 
 
 " But you do not like Mademoiselle and Marie ? " 
 
 " I do not feel about them as you do, certainly. You 
 think it is all lovely. If Mile. Yalmy says you are a little 
 monster, you believe her ; if she punishes you, you thank 
 her." 
 
 " No, she never calls me a monster, nor does she punish 
 me ; she is always too good to me. But you ought to like 
 her yourself, for she tells me I ought to love everybody, 
 and you too, because you are my neighbor." This made 
 Clara angry, and she said sharply : 
 
 " Thank you, I do not want your friendship if you only 
 give it because Mile. Yalmy tells you to do so." I tried 
 to make some amends, but fortunately Jeanne came in 
 and began to tell us about Stephanie. But I do not like " 
 Clara, nor that fat Cecile ; Marie is worth more than both 
 of them, and so is Jeanne. Mademoiselle came in soon, 
 and showed us such nice games that 1 think even Clara 
 must have found her pleasant. At last they went away, 
 and I ran to Stephanie, who was crying and very uncom 
 fortable. She said she was cold and could not sleep, but 
 when I tried to persuade her to get up, she said no, every 
 one would laugh at her. At last Mademoiselle came and
 
 MAEGUEEITE IN FEANCE. 103 
 
 made her understand that it would be a great deal better 
 just to say that she had been lazy, and had punished her 
 self without meaning it, and then to try and be more ac 
 tive about getting up in future. Stephanie consented, and 
 dressed herself. She looked very much ashamed, but I 
 think she was very glad to be up. We had a nice dinner, 
 and plenty of bonbons, for almost all mamma's friends- 
 had sent some to us. We put some away for the pbor 
 children. In the evening we played charades, which 
 Mile, arranged for us, and every one thought them charm 
 ing. Yesterday I had holiday, but I spent a long time on 
 my journal. I ate too a great many bonbons, and I am 
 afraid I am rather greedy, so I shall give the rest of mine 
 to Berthe. Stephanie has gotten up very promptly now 
 for*two days; I think she was well tired of her bed. Oh 
 dear, after to-morrow Marie will be gone ! What shall I 
 do without her 2 " 
 
 Tuesday, January Wth. 
 
 Oh, how unhappy we are, for Marie and Jeanne have 
 left. us ! It makes the house seem so lonely to be without 
 them, and yet we have all our own family as usual. I hope 
 Marie will be happy in the convent, but even if the Sisters 
 are good to her (as I know they will be), it will not. be like 
 her own home and her own mother. Marie was very brave 
 about saying good-by to us, and yet I knew it grieved her 
 to leave us, especially me, fof she said several times when 
 we were alone : 
 
 " Marguerite, God has been very good to give me a little 
 friend like you." 
 
 " Oh, Marie," I said, "pray call me your little sister, for 
 that will make you believe that mamma feels like a mother 
 towards you." 
 
 " Yes, Marguerite, you are indeed like a sister, and I shall
 
 104 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 never forget your mother's goodness to us, although it is so 
 difficult for me to tell her how I feel. But you must tell 
 her that indeed we are not ungrateful." It seems so strange 
 to me that Marie should be so timid with mamma, who 
 is always so affectionate to her. Mamma told us that when 
 she took them to the convent, and gave them up to the 
 Superior that Marie only looked at Her and said " thank 
 you," although mamma knew her heart was full. Jeanne 
 clung around her with many endearing words, and even 
 tears ; she is much more demonstrative. Old Babet is to 
 stay with us until she has an opportunity to return to 
 Bourbon ; she seems contented, but misses her young mis 
 tresses sadly. I have forgotten to say that it is the Convent 
 of the Visitation to which Marie had gone. It is quite at the 
 other end of Paris, but I am sure I can walk there, if they 
 will let me go. Now I am back again in my little room, 
 which seems sad enough now that Marie is no longer sit 
 ting here. She has promised to write me from the .convent, 
 and tell me how she likes it there. I gave my journal to 
 Mademoiselle that she might read what I had written for 
 the last few days, and I watched her face out of the cor 
 ner of my eye to see how she would look when she read 
 what I said about her talking to Marie about her parents, 
 but she read on and said nothing. At recess, however, as 
 it was too unpleasant to go out, she called me into her room, 
 and said we would have a little chat. I was very glad, 
 but felt a little shy too. She sat down on her large sofa, 
 and, to my delight, invited me to get upon her lap. Then, 
 putting her arms around me, she said : 
 
 " Did my little Marguerite really think that I did not 
 love her enough ? " 
 
 " Ah, yes, my good Mademoiselle," I cried, " I know you 
 love me, but I love you still more.' 5
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 105 
 
 " Then, why do you torment yourself?" she said, smil 
 ing. 
 
 " You know, Mademoiselle, for you saw it in my jour- 
 "nal." 
 
 " You are a foolish little girl ! Could you think of com 
 paring my kind interest in poor Marie with my warm 
 love for you ? " 
 
 " No, Mademoiselle, but " 
 
 " I can speak to Marie, my child, of my own grief, be 
 cause she is herself so unhappy, and can understand my 
 sorrow." 
 
 " Oh, Mademoiselle," I cried, " do not say you are un 
 happy. I cannot bear to hear it." 
 
 " You see, my little Marguerite," replied Mademoiselle, 
 " that your quick feelings are an objection to my speaking 
 to you of my troubles. You are too impressible and too 
 tender-hearted at the same time." 
 
 " Oh, Mademoiselle, is it bad to be tender-hearted ? " 
 
 "No, my child, and I would rather have you so than 
 selfish and cold." 
 
 " Like Clara," I interrupted. Mademoiselle's face grew 
 stern at once. 
 
 " That is very wrong," she said ; "when I am speaking 
 of what is wrong or disagreeable you should never make 
 a particular application, and certainly not to one of your 
 little friends. That is being very uncharitable." 
 
 " Oh, Mademoiselle, forgive me ! " 
 
 " I do, my child, but I want to speak to you about Clara, 
 of whom you speak and think too harshly. She has faults, 
 certainly, but she is good-hearted, as you yourself saw when 
 she gave her money so readily to the poor woman." 
 
 " I remember, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " She is an only child, too, and Mme. de Baldi goes so 
 5*
 
 106 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 much into society that she cannot watch her daughter very 
 closely, and she shows her affection chiefly by spoiling 
 Clara." 
 
 " Then, why does not Mrae. de Baldi allow Mile. Levins 
 to correct Clara's faults ? " 
 
 " Because, unfortunately, she has not the same confi 
 dence in her that your mamma so kindly shows for me. 
 Try not to judge others, my child ; remember you have 
 enough to do to correct yourself." 
 
 " .Oh,, yes, Mademoiselle, I know that so well." 
 
 " Try always to think that had you been situated as 
 Clara is, with no one to point out your faults, or teach you 
 to fight against them, that you might even have done 
 worse than she has done; God will one day ask you to give 
 account of the means of grace which He has given you, 
 and do you feel you have an answer ready ? " These 
 words frightened me, and I threw my arms around Made 
 moiselle, asking her to pardon me, and promising her not 
 tp speak or think ill in future of either Mine, de Baldi 
 or Clara. She then explained to me that she had never 
 spoken to me about her parents, because she did not wish 
 to make me unhappy, and also because she tried to submit 
 to God's will, by not allowing her mind to dwell too much 
 upon her loss. She said she was as happy as possible with 
 us, and that every day she thanked God for her home. 
 This made me feel more content. I am sure that if Clara 
 knew how kindly Mademoiselle had spoken of her she 
 would not attack her again. 
 
 Friday, January Qth. 
 
 I was made so happy yesterday by seeing Marie ! With 
 out telling me of it mamma had asked permission of the 
 Superior to bring me to see Marie, and her request was
 
 MABGTTERITE IN FEANCE. 107 
 
 granted. So we made quite a party to go to the conv.ent, 
 mamma, Mademoiselle, Stephanie and myself. Berthe 
 begged hard to go too, but mamma was not willing. I 
 am not sure but what mamma would have yielded when 
 she saw Berthe crying, if mademoiselle had not urged her 
 to be firm after once saying no. 
 
 " It seemed to me a long way to the convent, and yet I 
 was almost afraid to reach there, lest we should find Marie 
 very unhappy. But, on the contrary, she did not look so 
 sad, and seemed happier, perhaps at seeing us again. She 
 talked too more readily than usual with both mamma and 
 Mademoiselle, and said she liked the convent-life very much. 
 I was surprised to hear her say so, for those thick walls, 
 heavy doors, with close gratings, and even the Sisters hid 
 den under their long veils, seemed very gloomy and 
 severe to me. But Marie assures me that although she 
 is so sad as yet from losing her dear grandpapa and from 
 leaving us, she feels that by-and-by she shall be quite 
 contented. I asked her all sorts of questions about the 
 Sisters, the little girls, the food, sleeping-rooms, and her 
 studies. 
 
 She said the Sisters were indeed like mothers to them, 
 and there was one in particular, Sister Saint Francis de 
 Sales, that she already loved. There were a great many 
 little girls and some larger ones, but Marie did not as yet 
 know any by name. She said they were ruled quite strictly 
 in the classes,.but in recess they were allowed to make as 
 much noise as they pleased. And a fine racket there was, 
 as they ran and played in the convent-garden, which was 
 large and fine. I asked Marie how she amused herself, 
 for I felt sure that she would not care to run and play. 
 She said that the first day both she and Jeanne felt a little 
 strange, but very soon after they went into the garden one
 
 108 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 of the smaller girls persuaded Jeanne to join in a game, 
 and then some of the larger girls came and talked very 
 kindly to her. 
 
 " Oh, Marie," I said, " that was very nice, but I hope you 
 will not love them better than me." Marie began to laugh 
 heartily, and said : 
 
 "How can you think so? I am sure I shall like some 
 of them very much, but you, why, are you not rny dear 
 little sister \ " It was very nice in Marie to say that, but 
 I could not kiss her, unhappily, on account of those horrid 
 gratings. 
 
 We stayed only too short a time with Marie and Jeanne, 
 for I am sure they enjoyed our visit as much as we did. 
 Mamma had taken the little girls some chocolate-drops and 
 some sugar-plums, which pleased Jeanne greatly. 
 
 When we said good-by we promised to see them again 
 soon, and they sent kind messages to Gustave and Berthe, 
 as well as kisses to baby. The Sisters told marnma that 
 Marie and Jeanne would be ready for their first commu 
 nion during the coming year, since M. 1'Abbe Martin could 
 answer for their religious instruction. 
 
 Mamma has promised Babet that she will take her 
 too to the convent, which makes her very happy. I have 
 been trying to make Babet contented, as Marie begged me 
 to do so, but it is really hard to satisfy every one ! Babet 
 asked me to let her dress me and wait on me, to which I 
 agreed, when suddenly I found that Josephine was quite 
 angry and jealous, because, she said, I was deserting her 
 for a stranger ! Mademoiselle says that in a little while 
 Josephine will be more reasonable, but in the mean time 
 I must be patient with her.
 
 MARGUERITE IN 'FRANCE. 109 
 
 Thursday, July \st. 
 
 We have really reached the last month of our stay in 
 France ! It makes me feel happy and sorry at the same 
 time ; happy at the idea of this much-desired voyage being 
 so, near, sorry to leave those I love behind me. Gustave 
 and Marie, I shall miss them so much ! Marie says that she 
 will write to me, but that will not give me the pleasure 
 that seeing her always gives me. 
 
 What a delightful day we had yesterday ! At nine 
 o'clock mamma went out in a carriage and promised to 
 brino- Marie and Jeanne back with her, while I hurried with 
 
 O ' 
 
 my lessons, so that I might be ready to see tkern. I was anx 
 ious too to have good marks, for it was the end of the 
 month, and I was thinking of the poor-money. I shall 
 have three francs and Stephanie and Berthe forty sous, 
 but we shall not give it away until just before we start. I 
 shall be really sorry to leave my poor people, but I dare 
 sav I shall find some in India. 
 
 tt 
 
 Marie and Jeanne arrived soon after ten o'clock, and 
 papa, who has not seen them for a month, thinks they have 
 grown. He says Marie grows prettier every day, and 
 Jeanne is much improved. I can see that she is much 
 more gentle and polite, but as for Marie she always was, 
 and always will be, an angel ! 
 
 Clara came to make us a visit yesterday. I think she 
 felt some curiosity to see Marie again, as she comes here 
 very seldom now. Her mother takes her out so often with 
 her, that her lessons are very irregular and then she goes a 
 great deal to the theatre, which makes her unwilling to 
 get up early to study. We are not very good friends now, 
 but I try to remember what Mademoiselle said to me, and 
 do not quarrel with her. She was very amiable yesterday, 
 even to Marie, and Mine, de Baldi said that Marie was
 
 110 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 lovely " with her creole face, and figure like a young palm- 
 tree." It made me like Mine, de Baldi better to hear her 
 speak so of Marie. It was so warm during the day that 
 we could not go out to walk, but Mademoiselle and I drove 
 to the convent, with Marie and Jeanne, which was very 
 pleasant. 
 
 Friday, July 2d. 
 
 I worked very hard yesterday, and yet I did not get 
 very good marks. Mademoiselle says 'I shall find my les 
 sons more difficult now each day as I am growing older 
 and more advanced. 
 
 Yesterday I finished my Greek history, and also my 
 large map of France in departments. I was quite disap 
 pointed not to be marked " very well " for this, but Ma 
 demoiselle pointed out several mi stakes which I had made 
 which seemed small to me, but which she said made an 
 enormous difference in a map. I shall finish my Roman 
 history in a few days, and shall not begin anything new 
 before we start, as we go so soon. Oh, those wicked Boman 
 emperors,. I cannot bear to think of them! I prefer to 
 think only of that good Constantine, whom God chose to 
 be the first Christian emperor. And then the martyrs 
 who were the true soldiers of Christ ! Those were beauti 
 ful but terrible days ! How happy we ought to be now 
 when all is so changed, and we can worship God as we 
 please, without hiding ourselves in the catacombs. 
 
 Berth e was very sweet yesterday when Mademoiselle 
 began to teach her the New Testament. She listened very 
 attentively and made sometimes such queer answers. Ma 
 demoiselle told her of Adam's sin and of the punishment 
 which had fallen on him and all his children, and asked 
 her how it was, that we could go to heaven, if we only re 
 pented us of our sins, and tried to do right. Mademoiselle
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. Ill 
 
 meant that the Lord Jesus Christ had reopened heaven to 
 us, but Berthe thought for some time, and then said : 
 
 " Perhaps, Mademoiselle, we are not relations of Adam 
 now." How we laughed ! Stephanie is studying Greek 
 history, but she does not make much progress, for she is 
 rather lazy. 
 
 Wednesday, July 7th. 
 
 Yesterday I had the first ticket for my analysis in cate 
 chism, which made the fourth time I had had it, and I 
 was much pleased. Aglae Buffart has never had it yet, 
 although she has tried hard for it, and her mother often 
 takes notes in order to help her. Mademoiselle never 
 takes notes for me, but still I know that I should not be 
 vain of making a good analysis, for the reason I write eas 
 ily is because Mademoiselle has taken so much pains to 
 teach me. I feel more friendly towards Aglae now ever 
 since the day when she prompted me when I hesitated in 
 my catechism. I shall be very sorry to leave the class, 
 and M. 1'Abbe, whom I like so much, and the other priests. 
 They have all been very good to me. 
 
 Yesterday poor Babet w r as quite sick, and I felt really 
 worried about her, for I thought if Marie had known she 
 would have been anxious. But to-day the good old crea 
 ture is better, and Josephine nurses her very kindly, so I 
 see she is no longer jealous. Mademoiselle is always right. 
 
 Friday, July Wi. 
 
 Yesterday was mamma's birthday, and generally it is a 
 happy day for us, but this year we all felt sad, on account 
 of the news we received the evening before. Just as we 
 were at .dinner a letter was brought to papa, which I 
 thought must be from the ministry, for it was not like an 
 ordinary letter. As we had been expecting every day the
 
 112 MAEGTIEKITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 orders to start, mamma grew very pale while she looked 
 anxiously at papa, who was reading the letter. But papa 
 said nothing, and no one liked to ask any questions. For 
 tunately we had nearly finished dinner, and as we went 
 into the parlor, I heard papa say to Mademoiselle : " It is 
 even sooner than I expected." How my heart began to 
 beat, and I looked at mamma to see if she had heard, but 
 I dare say she suspected all the time. Presently papa took 
 her out of the parlor, and for a long time they were shut 
 up in their own room. I felt so impatient that I answered 
 very crossly when Berthe begged me to play with her. 
 As soon as papa came back, I ran to him, asking what 
 was the matter, but he told me to be quiet, and begged 
 Mile, to come into the garden with him. I felt ready to 
 cry. 
 
 At last Mademoiselle came up the steps, and as I was 
 standing by the window, I heard papa say : " So pray try 
 to make her more reasonable." Were they talking about 
 me ? But when Mademoiselle said : " You must wait un 
 til the first shock is over, then you will see that she is 
 braver." I knew they were speaking of mamma. Ma 
 demoiselle went at once to mamma's room, while papa re 
 mained walking up and down alone. I did not dare speak 
 again nor Stephanie, but Berthe ran to him, and coaxing 
 and playing soon made him laugh with her. J went down 
 the steps and stood near them, but pretended to be looking 
 , at the flowers. 
 
 Presently papa called me and asked what I was waiting 
 for. 
 
 "For you," I said. 
 
 " And why ? " said papa with a certain sly smile, which 
 he has sometimes. 
 
 " So that I should have my turn. You have been talk-
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 113 
 
 ing to mamma, Mademoiselle and Berthe, and you leave 
 
 me all alone without a word." 
 " And what am I to talk about ?" 
 " Oh, papa, you know very well, the big letter ! " 
 " You are a true woman, and have already your share 
 
 of the curiosity of the daughters of Eve." 
 
 " Oh, papa, you should not say so, for men are more 
 
 curious than we, I am sure. Besides, this is so important ! " 
 " Yes, it is important, as you say ; the letter told me that 
 
 we ought to be at Brest on the 21st, for the very latest ! 
 " Oh, papa, the 21st, but how soon ! And we thought it 
 
 would not be before the 31s;t ! And how does mamma 
 
 feel about it ? " papa looked very grave at once, and said : 
 " That is a different matter, your mother will tell you 
 
 herself how she feels." I felt sorry to have asked the 
 
 question which I suppose made me look grave, so that in a 
 
 moment papa said to me : 
 
 " What are you thinking about, that you are so serious? '' 
 " Of a great many things, papa, but first of mamma." 
 " And what are you thinking about her ? " 
 " I am afraid that she is very unhappy, and I would like 
 
 to go to her." 
 
 "Mile. Valmy is with her now, and I think you had 
 
 better wait until your mamma feels calmer. Are you not 
 
 contented to stay with your father?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, indeed, 1 like , so much to be- with you, papa, 
 
 but when you seem so stern " 
 " I. suppose I frighten you ? " 
 " Not always, but a little this evening." 
 Papa tapped me on the head with a smile, and said : 
 " Well, do not be afraid, we will talk together pleasantly, 
 
 since you are so fond of talking." I was delighted, and 
 
 began at once to ask all sorts of questions about our voyage.
 
 114: MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 Papa told me that onr ship was called the Isere, that she 
 was a good vessel, and he hoped we should make a quick 
 voyage. He said too that we should stop at Rio Janeiro and 
 at Bourbon, which pleased me very much, for there we shall 
 see my uncle Henry at Rio, and Marie's uncle Adrien at 
 Bourbon. We talked, too, a little about poor mamma 
 and her sorrow at leaving Gustave, but I can see that papa 
 cannot bear to say miich about it. 
 
 V/hen I went to bid mamma " good-night," I found her 
 in bed, and looking very badly, which made me very un 
 happy. This morning too she had such a headache, she 
 could not get up, and as she had letters to write and orders 
 to give, she had to have Mademoiselle with her, so I had 
 no lessons. I went to pass the morning with Clara, and 
 had a very pleasant time. . 
 
 Monday, July \2th. 
 
 This seems to be a strange sort of week, for I have no 
 lessons, and hardly time to write my Journal. We are so 
 busy getting ready to go away, trying on bonnets, and 
 dresses, and making journeys from one place to another 
 to buy what we want. Gustave has come on to spend this 
 last week with us, although papa thought it would only 
 make it harder for mamma to leave him. But she begged 
 so hard to have him come ! He is very useful to us, and 
 helps us very nicely. They are beginning to-day to pack 
 the trunks, only leaving out what we are using every day. 
 Mamma has given me a trunk of my own, in which I can 
 put all my books and toys ; I hardly know where to begin, 
 but Babet is going to help me. 
 
 I had forgotten to say that Babet is to go with us as far 
 as Bourbon, where we shall leave her with Marie's uncle. 
 Mamma says she is only too glad to have her, as neither 
 nurse nor Josephine can make up their minds to go with
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 115 
 
 us. They both have children in Paris, so are not willing 
 to go so far from them. It is quite natural, but we all feel 
 badly to leave them, and Stephanie and Berthe cried hard 
 when they were told of it. 
 
 It grieves most to think that when we are gone Marie 
 and Jeanne will have no one in Paris who loves them but 
 the Sisters. 
 
 Wednesday, July 14tt7i. 
 
 I was really very unhappy yesterday when I went for 
 the last time to the catechism class. The tears would fall 
 almost all the time whenever I thought of good M. Mar 
 tin whom I should not see again, of my companions, of 
 the dear church where I had been so constantly ! Who 
 could tell what might happen to me ? We might be ship 
 wrecked and swallowed up in the sea, while my com 
 panions were sitting quietly in their places, repeating their 
 catechism ! But it was wicked for me to think so, for 
 surely God would watch over us on the sea as w.ell as on 
 shore. 
 
 I shall try to remember always what good M. 1'Abbe 
 said to us, for perhaps I shall not hear his voice again. 
 After catechism Mademoiselle took me to say good-by to 
 him, and he gave me his blessing, which made me very 
 happy. Mademoiselle too seemed very sorry to say good- 
 by to M. Martin, who has always been so kind to. us all, 
 but she is very brave, and does not shed any tears. 
 
 I forgot to say that Aglae Buffart shook hands very 
 pleasantly with me when I said good-by, and said she was 
 sorry she should not see me again. So we parted good 
 friends. 
 
 Friday, July 16th. 
 
 I have not a great deal to tell about Wednesday, for af 
 ter my catechism lesson I was busy almost all day with
 
 116 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 packing. I came very near getting angry with Berthe, who 
 tried to help me, and managed to break one of my pretty 
 china tea-cups. Fortunately Mademoiselle carne in when 
 she heard the dispute, and so I stopped at once. 
 
 Yesterday I went to spend the day with Clara, for as 
 Mine, de Baldi was going into the country at once, I should 
 not see Clara again. I had determined to be very amiable 
 to Clara for this last visit, but after all we did not) get 
 on well together. I do not see how we ever could have been 
 good friends. 
 
 Josephine took me at 11 o'clock to the rue de la Paix, 
 where I found Clara dressed very beautifully to receive 
 me. It was not very necessary, for I am already wearing 
 my travelling dresses, which are of course very plain and 
 simple. I tried not to seem worried by Clara's dress, and 
 went up into her room with her, where she wanted to 
 show me all the things she had bought to take in the coun 
 try. Such a quantity of ribbons, sashes and fichus for 
 her dresses, and then all sorts of games, cards, dominoes, 
 and such things ! But Clara says she is sure she will be 
 dreadfully bored, for she hates the country, and is always 
 ill when she cannot have her walk on the boulevard, or the 
 Champs-Elysees. 
 
 " But, Clara," I said, " why do you go to the country, if 
 both your mamma and you dislike it ? " 
 
 " Oh, it is the proper thing to do. Everybody goes, and 
 of course in mamma's position she must do like other 
 people. " 
 
 " Is your chateau not pleasant that you are so discon 
 tented there ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, it is quite magnificent, but mamma 
 and I get tired of it in a fortnight." 
 
 " You have no visitors there ? "
 
 MAKGUEKITE IN FRANCE. 117 
 
 . " Oh, yes, we have a good many neighbors, but they do 
 not like the country any more than we do, so we are all 
 lored together. " 
 
 " But it must be pleasant to have your father with you. 
 We are so glad to have papa at home all day." 
 
 " Well, papa does not amuse us very much, for he sleeps 
 usually when he is in the house, or goes out hunting, and 
 leaves us alone." 
 
 " Have you no poor people you can visit ? Mamma has 
 always thought she could do so much good in the country." 
 
 " I think mamma does quite as much good as Mine. 
 Guy on could, for she gives a very large sum of money 
 every year to the mayor for the poor people. But she 
 could not visit them, you know, for they are too dirty." 
 
 " But, Clara, they are not always dirty ; sometimes indeed 
 they are very neat and clean." 
 
 " It may be, but do not talk about it any more ; it does 
 not amuse me." 
 
 " Cannot you find amusement with Mile. Levins ? We 
 always enjoy being with Mademoiselle." 
 
 " My dear, do not speak of Mile. Levins, for she is weari 
 ness itself. Besides, I will tell you in confidence that I 
 hope to get rid of her before we go." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " You need not look so horrified. Mamma cannot bear 
 Mile. Levins now, and I want some rest this summer, so I 
 shall do all I can to leave her left behind us." 
 
 " But where will she go ? " 
 
 o 
 
 " Oh, she has her own family, and will be much better 
 with them although they are very poor." 
 
 " Why, Clara, I can hardly believe it, for Mile. Levins is 
 so fond of you, and lias done so much for you. And just 
 because you do not like her, you dismiss her."
 
 118 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 " You need not use that word," said Clara sharply, " it 
 is not at all polite. But do not trouble yourself. Mamma 
 knows what she wants, and does not want your advice." 
 
 " Clara, I do not want to meddle, but when you spoke 
 to me of it, I could only say what I thought." 
 
 Just at this moment Mile. Levins came in, and I ran to 
 kiss her, feeling really grieved. She was very kind, and 
 asked me questions about our voyage, and how I felt about 
 going away. . I told her I w r as very anxious to go, and yet 
 at the last I felt very sorry to leave my friends. 
 
 " Why, my dear," said Clara, " since you take Mile. 
 Valmy, what more do you want ? " 
 
 " You forget that we leave Gustave." 
 
 " And Mile. Marie de Laval ! '' said Clara with a mock 
 ing smile. 
 
 " Yes, I shall be very sorry to leave Marie, and you too, 
 Clara." 
 
 " Oh, indeed, evenm<?." 
 
 " Certainly, Clara, for although I may love Marie best, 
 that does not prevent me from liking you, for we are such 
 old friends." 
 
 " Clara likes you too, my child," said Mile. Levins, " and 
 she will miss you more than you think, for you must not 
 always judge by her way of speaking." Clara looked half 
 angry and half pleased, but I was very glad to hear this of 
 her. 
 
 We began talking about my lessons and what I should 
 do on the voyage, when Mile. Levins said to Clara : 
 
 " I want very much to know what I am to do about books 
 and maps to go with us to the country. Mme. de Baldi 
 gives me no answer when I ask if she really wishes you to 
 rest this summer. In such a case, my child, it is quite use 
 less for me to go with you."
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 119 
 
 Clara looked terribly embarrassed, and I did not know 
 what to say. Mile. Levins evidently suspected something, 
 for in a moment she asked Clara to go and say to Mine, de 
 Baldi that she would like, to speak to her at once. Clara 
 came back looking very red, and told Mile. Levins that her 
 mother would see her ; as she left the room, Clara said to 
 me: 
 
 " That will soon be settled, for mamma is angry. She 
 says it is very provoking to be obliged to declare her inten 
 tions before she is quite ready." I felt too ashamed for her 
 to make any answer. 
 
 We were still in Clara's room when Mile. Levins left 
 Mme. de Baldi ; she stopped at the door of the room for a 
 moment as if uncertain, but turned and came up to where 
 we stood. She looked at Clara so sadly that the tears came 
 into my eyes, and said : 
 
 " Poor child, you now have what you wanted, freedom 
 from my authority. I trust you may never regret send 
 ing me away from you ; may God bless you ! " I sobbed 
 outright, and Clara, with a sud'den feeling of remorse, 
 threw her arms around Mile. Levins, crying : 
 
 " Forgive me ! " while she burst into tears. Mile. Levins 
 kissed her and replied : 
 
 " I pity you too much, my child, not to forgive you. I 
 can only pray that God may protect you and make you 
 happy." Then she turned to me and kissing me kindly, 
 left the room. Clara really seemed very sorry for what 
 she had done, and looked grave for some time. 
 
 Mile. Levins did not breakfast with us, sending word 
 that she had headache. About 3 o'clock in the after 
 noon Mine, de Baldi took Clara and me out with her in the 
 carriage, and we went all along the boulevards, so that I 
 might see all the gayety of the city, Mme. de Baldi said, as
 
 120 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 I was so soon to leave it all. She and Clara seemed to 
 pity me very much at having to go away from France, and 
 especially from Paris. Mine, de Baldi spoke of mamma 
 as making " such a terrible sacrifice." It really annoyed 
 me to hear her speak so, when it is only natural that mamma 
 should go with papa. 
 
 When we came back Clara dressed herself still more 
 finely, as they were to have some company in the evening. 
 Mile. Levins came down to dinner, and I was quite surprised 
 to see how amiable Mine, de Baldi was to her. But I was 
 not much pleased with Clara's airs, for she is so affected in 
 company that I do not like to be with her. I felt really 
 ashamed for her once when 1 heard a gentleman say to hert 
 " Well, Mile. Clara, when shall we have the pleasure of see 
 ing you in society ? " and almost immediately after he said 
 to a lady, while he looked at Clara, "Did you ever see 
 such a ridiculous little doll ? " But Clara believes all the 
 flattery, and tries to imitate her mother in everything. 
 
 At ten o'clock they sent a carriage for me, and I was 
 really glad to get home, it had seemed such a long day ! 
 
 Saturday, July 17 'ih. 
 
 We are really to start on the 20th, as we need not reach 
 Brest before the 23d, so we have gained two days, which 
 pleases us all, but most of all mamma. 
 
 The house is in the greatest confusion, nothing but 
 trunks and packages to be seen everywhere. I can hardly 
 find a place even to write my journal. It rather amuses 
 me to have everything so different, but I think I should 
 soon get tired of it. 
 
 While I was out yesterday with Josephine and the chil 
 dren, Mine. Baldi came to say good-by to mamma. She 
 did not bring Clara with her, for she was so sensitive she .
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 121 
 
 wanted to spare her so much agitation. I should not think 
 it would have hurt Clara to kiss me once more ! Just as 
 I came in Cecile Dufon arrived for a last visit. She really 
 seemed sorry to have us go, and cried when she said goOd- 
 
 bj- 
 
 After every one was gone, Mademoiselle called me into 
 her room, and told me of something which gave me great 
 pleasure, although it seems a sad thing to do. She has 
 consented to take me with her when she goes to pay her 
 last visit to the graves of her parents. I had begged to go 
 with her, but she would not consent until she had asked 
 mamma about it. We 'are to go to-morrow afternoon, and 
 then afterwards to church where 1 am to confess. 
 
 Mademoiselle prepared me yesterday for my confession. 
 In making my examination, I found many faults, although 
 I am glad 1 had had 110 attacks of rage. 
 
 Monday, July 
 
 We really start to-morrow, and this is the last time I 
 shall write in my journal in France ! I have so much to 
 say, and yet very little time to write ! 
 
 On Saturday Mademoiselle and I drove in a carriage to 
 the cemetery of Pere-la-Chaise. What a sad place it is, 
 with its long- streets of tombs, really a city of the dead ! 
 We knelt down beside the tombs where the parents of 
 Mademoiselle were buried, and remained so for a long 
 time. Mademoiselle had covered her face with her hands, 
 and I think she had forgotten that I was there. Sudden 
 ly she raised her head, and, seeing me, said : " My poor 
 child ! Let us go now." Her eyes were full of tears, 
 which troubled me so much that I threw my arms around 
 her and began to sob. She kissed me, and, raising her eyes 
 to the sky above us, she said softly : " They are looking 
 6
 
 122 MAKGUEEITE IN TRANCE. 
 
 down upon you, Marguerite, and are blessing you for lov 
 ing their child so truly." While Mademoiselle was say 
 ing a last prayer I picked some of the flowers growing 
 beside the tombs, and when I gave them to her after we 
 were in the carriage she seemed much gratified. 
 
 I told Gustave in the evening about our visit to the ce 
 metery, and he told Mademoiselle that he would go to 
 Pere-la-Chaise from time to time and see that they cared 
 for the graves properly. Mademoiselle seemed much 
 touched by his though tf ulness. 
 
 After my confession was over I said good-by to the 
 priest, who gave me his blessing, and kindly promised to 
 pray for me. 
 
 My dear Marie came to spend the day with me, as they 
 were allowed the holiday on account of our leaving so 
 soon. Marie and Jeanne both feel very sad to have us 
 go. They have written to their relations in Bourbon, 
 and w r e have promised to tell them all about the two 
 sisters. 
 
 When they said good-by to mamma Marie could not 
 speak, but clung to her silently, while Jeanne cried through 
 her tears : " What will become of us now ! Every one is 
 deserting us." 
 
 " Oh, my pOor children, my dear little girls," said mamma, 
 " God knows how gladly I would have been a mother to 
 you ! " How very pretty Marie is now ! She is almost 
 as tall as mamma, and is so slender and graceful. When 
 she stands she always bends a little as if to support her 
 self. Her face is oval, and pale rather than dark, and 
 then such large beautiful eyes ,like- Stephanie's, only more 
 expressive, for they are not black. But what I love best 
 is her hair, which is quite dark, and yet has a tinge as if 
 the sun were shining on it. Every one says she is lovely,
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 123 
 
 and she is more than that to me, for I am sure she must 
 look like the angels. 
 
 We had a long talk while we were walking in the gar 
 den, and we promised to write each other a sort of journal, 
 telling the history of every day. Marie said that she was 
 almost afraid to ask me to do it, but I was glad to promise, 
 and asking her to keep the sheets I would send her, so 
 that I could read them over when I was older. Poor 
 Babet, how she cries oh, dear, here is Josephine, who says 
 she must take my desk to put in the trunk ! And I had 
 so much to say, especially about Alberic, who came to bid 
 us good-by, but I must stop, for Josephine is calling 
 again. 
 
 BREST (in Brittany), Thursday, July 29t7i. 
 
 As mamma opened her trunk this morning I begged 
 her to let me have my desk for a little while. I have such 
 important things to write ! First I must tell what is the 
 greatest, greatest pleasure to me of all ! I can hardly believe 
 it, and I feel that God has been so very, very good. It is that 
 Marie, my dear sister, is to go with us. It is not a dream, 
 but the truth, for she and Jeanne are to arrive to-morrow 
 morning at 6 o'clock. I can hardly sit still when I think 
 of it, and it seems so long to wait ! 
 
 I have seen our future quarters, and they are ugly 
 enough. I felt quite sick too in coming back from the 
 vessel, and so did Stephanie, and it is not a pleasant feel 
 ing. 
 
 Mamma would not go on board the Isere ; she said she 
 should see it quite soon enough. She is so sad I can hard 
 ly bear to look at her, and nothing comforts her. When I 
 speak of Gustave she says : " Oh my boy, my poor 
 Gustave, I shall never have strength to live without him." 
 
 On Monday I went to bid Marie good-by, and we shed
 
 124 MAKGUEEITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 a great many tears. When Mademoiselle wanted to take 
 me away I could not make up my mind to go. I stamped 
 my feet ; one would have said I was in a rage from sorrow. 
 Marie tried to quiet me, but I felt broken-hearted. And 
 then I could not kiss her on account of the grating ! But 
 all that sorrow is over, I hope. 
 
 Then we had sad scenes in parting from Gustave, and 
 for that we have no consolation. I could hardly sleep all 
 night, for we were to get up very early, and 1 kept think 
 ing of Marie and Gustave, and of Josephine too. Nurse 
 had left us in the morning, and baby was with Mademoi 
 selle, who had Babet to help her, but the poor little fellow 
 cried a great deal for his nurse, and seemed to feel very 
 desolate without her. 
 
 We were all dressed at 4 o'clock, and then what a 
 hurried and confused time we had, and we were very near 
 being too late for the diligence. We started for the coach 
 office in two carriages, for we made a large party, Gustave 
 and M. Guer being with us. As soon as we arrived papa 
 and Mademoiselle went to attend to the baggage, while all 
 the rest of us went with mamma into the' waiting-room. 
 There poor mamma began to cry, while she held Gustave 
 in her arms, and gave him many cautions. Gustave too 
 could not keep back his tears ; it seemed really cruel to 
 leave him. When we were called to take our places, 
 mamma grew so pale I was afraid she would faint. After 
 we were all seated in the coach, Gustave still stood on the 
 step holding mamma's hand, and saying: " Good-by, dear 
 est mamma, try to be brave ; " to papa he said : " Do not be 
 anxious about me, papa ; you shall always hear good news 
 of me." How good and manly he looked ! At last the 
 conductor came to close the door; mamma had to give 
 Gustave her last kiss, and as we drove away she fell back
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 125 
 
 fainting and looking so terribly that I forgot even to give 
 Gustave a last look. I shall pray every day to God to 
 watch over him. 
 
 To-day again at 4 o'clock P.M. 
 
 I was interrupted by quite a good many visitors, as papa 
 knows several families who live here. Some of the little 
 girls came to see me, and very queer some of them were. 
 One especially was almost as affected as Clara. They 
 seemed very much afraid that I should think they did not 
 know anything about Paris, and talked of a visit they had 
 made there two years ago. They wanted me to show them 
 my bonnet to see how it was different from theirs, but it 
 was packed up, and my little e very-day hood was not worth 
 showing. 
 
 It it raining now so that we cannot go out, and as the 
 children are playing in the corridor, and mamma and Made 
 moiselle have baby, there is nothing for me to do but 
 write my journal. 
 
 I cannot describe our journey in detail, but will only say 
 that some part of it was through a very pretty country. In 
 Normandy the peasants wear such a pretty dress ; at one 
 place we passed a church just as a wedding-party were 
 coming out, and it made quite a gay scene. I do not 
 like the peasants in Brittany so much, for they are not so 
 neat, and their long, uncombed hair is not at all nice. 
 
 It is very amusing to travel, but when one sits all 
 night in the coach it is terribly tiresome. One night I had 
 a dreadful fright, and I made such a hubbub that I wakened 
 everybody. It was very, very dark, and we were passing 
 slowly through a forest, when suddenly. I saw something 
 white beside the road, which began to move. I peered 
 out of the door, and saw it was a man lying down, so I 
 pressed papa's foot to try and waken him, but he did
 
 126 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 
 
 not move, and just at that moment I heard a whistle, and 
 I felt sure this was one of a band of robbers who were 
 going to attack us, so I screamed as loud as I could, 
 " Kobbers, robbers ! " Everybody waked up with a start ; 
 mamma almost fainted, and Stephanie and Berthe began 
 to cry. When Mademoiselle and papa had looked out 
 and could see nothing, they all began to ask what was 
 the matter. I was so frightened I could hardly tell, and 
 was crying and laughing at the same time. Papa was 
 really angry with me, and told me I was a little goose who 
 had had a nightmare, but I am sure I saw a robber. 
 
 At another place we had quite a fright with some beg 
 gars, and papa said they were more like brigands than my 
 robber. An old man came first to the coach to beg, and 
 then a woman with some children, and when we had 
 given them some money a crowd of other beggars appeared, 
 all clamoring for something. They opened the doors of 
 the ' coach, climbed on the steps, and looked so angry and 
 spoke so loud that we were all afraid of them, and poor 
 baby began to cry. Papa came and tried to drive them 
 away, but they only abused him with such coarse words 
 that he had to call the conductor who soon sent them all 
 away. It was quite an adventure, and we talked about it 
 for some time. 
 
 We arrived at Brest in the evening of the 23d. It 
 looked very dark and gloomy to me, with its high walls 
 and fortifications. I do not like the convicts either, and 
 you see them working everywhere. We are staying with 
 Admiral B., who knows papa, and very kindly insisted that 
 we should come to his house.. There are some of the con 
 victs working in the garden, who always want to talk to 
 us. Berthe took quite a fancy to one of them, and she 
 said to mamma : " How polite these good convicts are, mam-
 
 MARGUERITE IN FRANCE. 127 
 
 ma!" which made us laugh. But I not like them, for I 
 feel they have done something very bad, and it makes me 
 afraid of them. 
 
 But I have not yet told how it happens that Marie and 
 Jeanne are to go with us. The day after we arrived at 
 Brest mamma received a letter from the big cousin en 
 closing one which he had just received from Bourbon^, 
 from Marie's uncle. M. de la Caze had just heard of 
 M. de Laval's death, and wrote to thank the cousin for 
 what he had done for the children. But he said he wished 
 above all things to have his dear nieces come to him, that he 
 
 O / 
 
 and his wife might act as father and mother to them. That 
 he would like to have them come out as soon as possible, 
 and if there w r as still time he begged that they might be 
 put under the care of that "good and lovely Mine. Guyon," 
 of whom Marie and Jeanne wrote with so much affection. 
 M. de la Caze hoped that mamma and papa would not re 
 fuse the charge, since they already loved these poor 
 orphans. He wished Alberic to remain in France to finish 
 his education. The big cousin begged that mamma would 
 write at once, to say if there was still time for him to 
 bring Marie and Jeanne to Brest before we sailed, and if 
 there was room for them on the ship. Mamma replied the 
 same day, urging him to bring the little girls, and promis 
 ing that all should be arranged for their comfort. So we 
 are expecting them to-morrow morning, but if they do not 
 reach here then they will be too late ! Oh, I shall pray 
 to God to bring them in time.
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA.
 
 MAKGTJEKITE AT SEA. 
 
 Sunday, August IStli ON BOARD THE ISERE. 
 WANT very much to write something in my 
 Journal to-day, but I find it very hard work. The 
 ship rolls so that I am afraid every moment that 
 my desk will slip off my knees, or the ink dash over the 
 edge of my inkstand. It would make me very unhappy 
 to get ink on the pretty dress which I have put on this 
 morning, for it is a charming blue and white muslin, and 
 looks very fresh and nice. 
 
 I have some important things to say if I can only man 
 age to write, but this rolling makes strange writing. We 
 have been on board sixteen days, and I have done nothing, 
 but I have been terribly sea-sick. Indeed we have made 
 quite an hospital. Baby has not cared, but has been very 
 happy, nor papa, but then he is a sailor. Poor mamma has 
 suffered very much ; she was out of her berth yesterday for 
 the first time, and happily was able to go to Mass this 
 morning. We are so glad to have Mass on board ! It is 
 very seldom that it can be so, but as we have three priests 
 on board, who are. going as missionaries to China, the 
 captain has given them permission to hold Mass every 
 Sunday in the cabin. We had a great fright with Berthe 
 in the midst of the service, for the chair on which she was 
 kneeling suddenly tipped as the vessel rolled, and away
 
 132 MAKGUEKITE AT SEA. 
 
 % . 
 
 she went to the other end of the room, with the chair roll 
 ing over her. She screamed, and mamma ran to pick her 
 up, but it made a sad disturbance in the service. 
 
 Monday, August 
 
 Oh dear, my poor blue dress ! It is quite spoiled, and I 
 am very unhappy about it. Just as I was writing the last 
 word yesterday, the vessel gave a great roll, and away I 
 went, desk and all, to the other end of the deck. I was so 
 afraid of falling between decks that I caught hold of the 
 Sisters' door, my desk slipped, and in a moment the ink was 
 all over my dress. I thought mamma would scold me, but 
 when she saw my distress she did not say a word. To-day 
 the sea is calmer, and I have taken great care to fasten my 
 table to the door of our state-room, and have only put a 
 few drops of ink in my inkstand. 
 
 We have our rooms on the second deck, which runs the 
 whole length of the vessel, and where they have made two fine 
 rooms expressly for us, one for the Sisters opposite, and 
 a few others. I call the rooms fine, because every one says 
 they are, but to me they seem very little and ugly. Papa 
 has a room on the upper-deck above us, but not very far 
 away. Mamma has one room, with Stephanie, Berthe, 
 Babet and baby, while I am in a room with Mademoiselle, 
 Marie and Jeanne. We are very crqwded, but still very 
 happy to have the two Sisters. 
 
 Tuesday, August \ltti. 
 
 I have not yet told about Marie and Jeanne when they 
 joined us at Brest, although I remember it so well. I 
 begged mamma so earnestly to let me go with papa to meet 
 them that she consented, and I got up only too gladly at 
 five o'clock in the morning. I thought the horrid coach 
 would never arrive, I was so impatient, and when it did,
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA.. 133 
 
 come I was so frightened lest they should not be in it. I 
 could not see them at the windows, and grew very pale, 
 when suddenly some one called out : " Marguerite ! Mar 
 guerite ! here we are ! " and I knew it was Marie's voice. 
 
 I felt almost too happy when I saw them get out, and 
 they seemed very glad too, but I know they must have felt 
 unhappy about leaving Alberic. Marie and I both have 
 a brother to miss and we can both write to them. 
 
 When we reached the Admiral's house, with Marie and 
 Jeanne and the big cousin, such cries of joy as we heard ! 
 Stephanie and Berthe rushed clown stairs, and Babet came 
 to meet us, crying and laughing at the same time. I think 
 too that it comforted mamma a little to see the two sisters. 
 It makes Marie so happy to be with mamma, as I can see, 
 although she does not say much about it. I am sorry to 
 think that we shall have to leave the two sisters at Bourbon, 
 still I would rather have Marie in Bourbon than in France, 
 as she will not be so far from us. 
 
 Wednesday, August ISth. 
 
 I was obliged to stop yesterday, as Mademoiselle called 
 me to come and say my catechism. She wants me to say 
 it every Tiiesday as if I were still in Paris, and Marie and 
 Jeanne have agreed to join me. Mademoiselle spoke to us 
 so beautifully after the lesson was over ; I hope I shall 
 always remember her words, when I look at the sea. 
 
 " How is it, my dear children," she said, " that we can live 
 in the presence of God, without lifting our hearts to Him at 
 every moment. Here on the sea especially everything 
 shows His greatness and power and our weakness. You 
 love this great expanse of water, that reflects so beauti 
 fully the blue sky above it, but does it not also reflect a 
 portion of the glory of God ? When your eyes wander 
 over it, do you not feel that He who created it, is indeed
 
 134 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 infinite, eternal, without being and without end? When 
 you see its great waves rise before us, and hear the whist 
 ling wind, which swells our sails and carries us rapidly 
 forward, then you can understand His immense power, and 
 pray for His protection. But when, as to-day, you see 
 this great sea, calm- and blue, with its waves sleeping as 
 it were, then you must praise Him for His goodness, and 
 rejoice in this great beauty before you ? " Mademoiselle 
 spoke with so much feeling that it seemed as if her -voice 
 went straight to our hearts. I shall often think of what 
 she said. 
 
 The sea is very beautiful to me now, but when I first 
 saw it, I was disappointed. But then in the harbor at 
 Brest, it was very different, and when I first came on 
 board I was so sick, and there was so many bad smells, 
 that I could not think anything pleasant. Now I am quite 
 accustomed to the rolling, and can run and jump as I 
 please on the deck with the little ones. I hear them there 
 now, so as Marie is with mamma I will join them. 
 
 Friday, August 20t7u 
 
 I spoke the other day of going to play with the children, 
 and now I must tell what happened, although it is not 
 a very pleasant story about myself. 
 
 As 1 was going up the ladder to the deck with Stephanie, 
 Berthe and Jeanne, the little Boiitems called out that they 
 were coining to play with us. But I believe I have never 
 Baid that they were on the vessel. I must really put down 
 the names of our passengers, so I shall remember them by 
 and by. There are fourteen, without counting our party. 
 First the three priests, M. Yerrier, M. Laurent, and M. 
 Bertrand ; then the Sisters of St. Joseph, Sister Alexis, 
 Sister llonorine, Sister Rosalie, Sister Marceline, and
 
 MAKGUEKITE AT SEA 135 
 
 Sister Stephanie ; then an old gentleman with white hair, 
 named M. Leblond, and lastly Mme. Bontems, with four 
 children Adele, who is ten years old, Laura, Jules and 
 Suzanne. Mme. Bontems is a widow, and as her husband 
 has friends in Bourbon, she is going out there to try and 
 support her children. I believe she means to establish her 
 self in a shop. I do not like Mine. -Bontems or Adele, but 
 it seems ill-natured to say so, Adele is a great tyrant with 
 her brothers and sisters, and her mother lets her do just 
 as she likes, so we have already had several disputes. 
 
 Yesterday we began to jump the rope. Adele and Jeanne 
 turned the rope, and Stephanie and I jumped together. 
 The sailors were looking at us, which pleased me, for I 
 like them so much. I wanted to count one hundred with 
 out missing, when suddenly Adele tried to jump into my 
 place. I asked her to wait a moment, but she grew angry 
 and began to turn the rope very badly. That put me in a 
 rage, and I began to say very disagreeable things to Adele, 
 when at that moment Mademoiselle came up and told me 
 I had better go down to marnma, and let Marie come up 
 to get some fresh air. I understood why she wanted me 
 to go, and at this moment Adele called out : 
 
 "Yes, you had better go, and get quiet." 
 
 At this I turned around and told her she was a fool, 
 which was very impolite, but I was too angry to think 
 what I was saying. I told Stephanie and Berthe in Eng 
 lish that I forbid them playing with Adele or Laura, and 
 that if they did I would not lend them my cards in the 
 evening. They did not dare to disobey me, so they left 
 the little Bontems and went off with Jeanne. 
 
 Mademoiselle was very much displeased with me, and 
 pointed out to me how very wrong I was. She showed 
 me that the cause of all this quarrelling is mv self-love.
 
 136 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 and I want to rule every one, hut will not be ruled myself. 
 I am afraid it is all true, and I am very much ashamed. 
 
 It is just a month since we said good-bye to Gustave. 1 
 found mamma crying this morning, and I could not con- 
 Bole her. i 
 
 Monday, August 23rd. : , 
 
 Yesterday, after Mass was over, Marie and I tried to 
 arrange our state-room differently, both to amuse ourselves 
 and to make it a little' more convenient. We moved the 
 large box of books away from the port-hole where it 
 seemed to be a little damp, and put it next our berths, so 
 that I can step on it in order to climb into my berth. It 
 seems very funny to have a bed up in the air, but it amuses 
 both Jeanne and me very much. Mademoiselle and Marie 
 are below, one next mamma's room, and the other opposite, 
 and Jeanne and I are over their heads. 
 
 Our state-room is a queer -looking place, and yet every 
 body thinks we are very nicely arranged. The port-hole 
 is a window without glass, and when it is closed to keep 
 out the water we have no light but through the door. 
 Fortunately we have a lamp fastened to the top of the 
 room which cannot be upset, and under it a little table 
 fastened too. We have another table for a wash-stand, 
 which can be taken down if we want more room. There 
 are also shelves for our things, and hooks in the corner, 
 where we can hang up our dresses at night. Our beds 
 are against the wall which separates our room from the 
 deck, and they look like two large wardrobes with shelves, 
 but no doors ; the shelves are our berths. They have 
 small mattresses and pillows, and a sort of railing to keep 
 us from tumbling out when the sea is rough. We are not 
 very uncomfortable, but have sometimes funny scenes at 
 night when we are clambering into bed, and we see Ste-
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 137 
 
 phanie and Berthe doing the same thing in mamma's 
 room, for she leaves the door open between the rooms 
 after we go to bed. ' Mamma's room is rather larger than 
 ours, and somewhat nicer, and when the door is open we 
 look quite well. 
 
 The poor Sisters are all five of them in a room no 
 larger than mamma's, and it is not nearly as well arranged 
 as ours, as it has no shelves or hooks. The Sisters are so 
 good and kind to every one. When we were all so sea 
 sick they came out and helped Mademoiselle to take care 
 of us, although they did not feel very well themselves. 
 And every morning Sister Ilonorine goes to help Mine. 
 Bontems (who has no servant) with the children, and also 
 assists Adele to arrange their state-room. 
 
 But now I must stop and go to see mamma, who is not 
 very well to-day. 
 
 Tuesday, August 24th. 
 
 I think I must describe the way in which we pass our 
 days, for by-and-by these details will interest me. We 
 get up at seven o'clock, and as soon as we are dressed we 
 have prayers together. Then we put our room in order, 
 BO that our cabin-boy can sweep it, while we take a little 
 walk on the deck. 
 
 At half-past eight we come down again and establish 
 ourselves for our lessons, which keep us until ten o'clock. 
 
 At that time the head-steward comes to tell us that 
 breakfast is ready, and we all go up into the pretty little 
 dining-room, where the captain has his meals. He is 
 very polite and pleasant to us, and he has really very 
 nice breakfasts and dinners. We take our meals with the 
 captain on account of papa's rank, while the other pas 
 sengers sit with the officers of the ship, in another room. 
 They have quite a large tableful of people, and I often
 
 138 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 like to peep at them, as we go to our meals, but it is 
 pleasanter to have only our own family at table. 
 
 After breakfast mamma stays talking with the captain 
 and papa, and we walk a little on the deck, if it is not too 
 warm. At one o'clock we begin to work again with 
 Mademoiselle and do not stop until three o'clock ; then I 
 wri-te my Journal, and Marie a sort of Journal-letter for 
 Alberic. We have our English lesson in the afternoon, 
 and Mademoiselle makes a rule, that we shall speak only 
 English among ourselves, until we have' finished our 
 lessons. 
 
 At four o'clock we go on deck, where we stay until din 
 ner-time, which is at five o'clock. At half-past eight we 
 children go to bed, while mamma and Mademoiselle sit up 
 much lateT, with their books and work. 
 
 It amuses me very much to see the sailors, soldiers and 
 cabin-boys take their meals, or mess as they call it. They 
 have soup or beans served in large platters, and instead of 
 sitting down to table, I do not know how many men seat 
 themselves in groups around each platter, into which 
 they plunge their spoons or forks. It is a funny sight, so 
 many brown-faced men sitting with crossed legs around 
 these steaming platters. I wonder if what they have to 
 eat is good. I asked our boy Georget about the soup, and 
 he said it was very different from what the captain had. 
 Poor little fellow ! he is only twelve years old, and does 
 not look very strong. Marie and I always keep a little of 
 our dessert for him, which pleases him very much. 
 
 Wednesday, August 25th. 
 
 I did not say my catechism very well yesterday, so that 
 Mademoiselle was not very well satisfied, but I have prom 
 ised to do better next week. She gave us a little lecture
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 139 
 
 upon " the love we should show towards our neighbor." 
 I suppose she sees that I do not like Adele, 'aud even 
 Marie finds it hard to be pleasant to her. 
 
 She reminded us of our Saviour's words, " By this shall 
 all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one 
 towards another." She then showed us that there was no 
 merit .in loving those who loved us and were kind to us, 
 but that our Lord meant us to love every one. She said 
 that when we met one of our little companions who was 
 not pleasant to us, if, instead of treating her with coldness, 
 and avoiding her as much as possible, we should try to 
 find out her good qualities and excuse her faults, we should 
 then be acting as young Christians in God's sight, and lie 
 would surely reward us for our efforts. We were all much 
 touched by Mademoiselle's words, and promised to be more 
 amiable towards Adele. I feel that I am more to blame 
 than Marie, although she acknowledges she has been 
 wrong too in never speaking to Adele if she could help 
 it, so that Mine. Bontems thinks her very proud. 
 
 Yesterday afternoon we asked Adele and Laura to come 
 and play on the deck with us, and this morning Marie and 
 I went to Mine. Bontems' room to ask after little Suzanne, 
 who was not very well. 
 
 Thursday, Augmt 26t7i. 
 
 Nothing very extraordinary happened yesterday, except 
 that the sea was a little rough, which made us all a little 
 sea-sick. It seems strange that we cannot get accustomed 
 to the rolling of. the ship. I think we. should not be so 
 eick if they did not wash the decks so constantly with the 
 sea-water, which smells so badly. If I let fall the least 
 . drop of ink, or overturn anything, in a moment we hear 
 " Take the swabs ! " and then comes a crowd of sailors to
 
 140 MAKGUEKITE AT SEA. 
 
 wash the decks in all directions. It is very tiresome, but 
 papa says it is very necessary, for there are so many people 
 on board the Isere that if the captain were not very par 
 ticular, it would" soon be dirty, and we should have sick 
 ness. 
 
 But I have something to tell about this morning. As it 
 was very warm in our state-room, Mademoiselle "rose quite 
 early, and opening the port-hole, sat down to write. I 
 opened my eyes pretty soon, and saw through the port-hole 
 something red, which startled me so much that I cried out. 
 Mademoiselle looked up, and exclaimed, " a vessel ! " and 
 then, what a commotion ! We all slipped on our dressing- 
 gowns, and crowded to the port-hole to look at the vessel, 
 which was quite close to us. I could even see a little girl 
 looking out of a port-hole at us, and I called out " good 
 morning " to her as loud as I could, but I knew she could 
 not hear me, although she made signs to us with her hands. 
 It was such a pleasure to see something besides fish and 
 birds. 
 
 Mademoiselle had gone on deck, and came back with 
 such good news ! The vessel was the Leonie, bound to 
 France, coming from' India, and the captain offered to 
 take our letters. Mamma seized a pen to write to Gustave, 
 as I did too, while Marie and Jeanne closed the letters 
 that they had written to Alberic. How happy they will 
 be to hear from us ! The two captains talked to each 
 other through their trumpets, and the captain of the 
 Leonie said he had been sixteen days without making any 
 head-way, having been becalmed. How tedious it will be 
 if we have the same experience ! 
 
 Friday, August 21t7i. 
 The sea is still quite rough, which has caused something
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 141 
 
 that touched me very much, and makes me feel so proud 
 of my papa ! 
 
 I was walking on the deck this morning with baby, 
 holding one little hand, and Babet the other, while the 
 little fellow watched the water with his great eyes, laugh 
 ing merrily whenever the vessel turned, so that we could 
 see the waves like a great wall above us. 
 
 As we were walking in this way, I noticed an old sailor, 
 who was sitting on a coil of rope at the foot of the great 
 mast. He was looking at us, and seemed as if he wanted 
 to speak to us ; but mamma does not like me to talk to 
 the sailors, and besides I felt rather disgusted with him, 
 for he was taking tobacco out of a dirty little box and 
 chewing it, which I do not like at all. 
 
 Once when we turned around, the old man was gone ; but 
 at the next turn he was before us, shaking something 
 which he held in his hand to amuse baby. It was a little 
 rattle, made of sharks' bones, with some little bells which 
 jingled and pleased baby so much that he stretched out 
 his hands for it at once. As the old sailor gave it to him, 
 and said he had made it himself, I thanked him, and 
 said : 
 
 "You are very good to my little brother. Did you 
 make it expressly for him ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; and I wish I could make other things 
 for him and for all of you." 
 
 " Oh, -thank you. You think baby very sweet, do you 
 not ? " 
 
 " He is sweet enough, the little marmot. The son of a 
 king could not be sweeter. He will be admiral some day. 
 That is what we all call him the little admiral" 
 
 That made me laugh ; but I said : 
 
 " But he cannot be more than his father."
 
 142 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 " Oh, your father will be admiral ; he ought to be al 
 ready if they went by merit." 
 
 " Do you know papa, then ? " 
 
 " Ah, old Mario knows him well enough ! Ask him if 
 he does not remember me a bit. Has he never spoken to 
 you about me by accident ? " 
 
 "No., never." 
 
 " Oh, the brave man ! I remembered him well. There 
 is nothing now like these old sea-wolves. They save the 
 life of one man, and have twenty-five lashes given to 
 another, and say not a word about it ! " 
 
 " I do not understand you, sir," I said, c; for my father 
 is not at all like a wolf. Has he saved some one's life ? 
 I do not believe he ever had any one beaten." 
 
 "Well, miss," said Mario, " as for the beating, that is 
 rjght enough in its way ; one must keep order ; but your 
 papa did save some one's life, and the some one never forgot 
 it. If you will let me, I will tell the little miss about it." 
 
 " Oh, yes. I like a story so much." 
 
 " Well, then, it was on the 20th of January, fifteen years 
 ago, that it happened, and your papa was only an ensign 
 on board the ship. But we sailors all liked him, and re 
 spected him too, for he made us obey him. Ha ! he was 
 worth more than this captain of ours, I can tell you." 
 
 " But, Mario, I think the captain is very kind and pleas 
 ant." 
 
 " Oh, yes, kind enough for such a pretty lady as your 
 mamma ; why not ? " 
 
 " But he is kind to me too." 
 
 " I dare say, miss, for, excuse me, you are pretty enough, 
 too.'' I was quite ashamed to hear him say this, so I asked 
 him to go on with his story. 
 
 " Well," he said, " on the 20th of January, at eight in
 
 MAKGUEEITE AT SEA. . 143 
 
 the evening, dark as pitch, we were running before a 
 pretty breeze, which you would have found a little stiff, 
 Miss Marguerite, but we sailors in the Yirginie only laughed 
 at it. Your papa had just finished his watch, which was 
 lucky enough for the poor fellow who dropped into the 
 sea at the moment from no one knows how great a height. 
 He was lashing a spar, when down he went before you 
 could count two head first into the salt water. It would 
 soon have been all over for the poor fellow, for the Yir- 
 ginie thought nothing of losing a man, if it had not been for 
 the brave young officer. In a minute, off went your father's 
 uniform, and' faith ! there he was in the black stormy 
 sea ! At once every one shouted, ' M. Guy on overboard ! 
 M. Guyon overboard ! ' The captain would not have 
 stopped a minute for a poor devil of a sailor, but for an 
 officer it was different ; and then the whole crew would 
 have made him try to save M. Guyon. 
 
 " In the meantime your father swam like a fish to the 
 sailor and seized his hair, while he, to thank him, only 
 kicked and struggled, not knowing what he did. But the 
 brave officer held fast, and he has a famous grip, I tell 
 you ! They let down a boat, and then, faith, the good 
 God took them in hand, and they were picked up and 
 brought back to the ship. Oh, to hear the cheers on the 
 deck of the Yirginie ! The next morning, when your papa 
 came out of his cabin, the crew were all at mess ; but up 
 they all jumped at once like. one man. It was fine to see 
 that ! Your papa, who had never grown pale in face of 
 danger, grew quite white, and we could see tears in his eyes. 
 But, faith, I see you are his own child, for you are pale too ; 
 it must not make you feel too bad." 
 
 " No, indeed," I cried ; " it makes me feel well and 
 then ? "
 
 144 MAEGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 " "Well, he gave me a shake of the hand, and I said 
 ' thank you ; ' for you see, miss, this stupid sailor who let 
 himself tumble into the sea was old Mario it was I." 
 
 " He got up and turned his back to me ; but he did not 
 mean to be rude, for I saw him wipe away the tears with 
 his great rough hand. I stayed there 011 the deck thinking 
 of it all, when all the others had gone. My heart was full 
 of my dear papa and his 'bravery. But I must finish to 
 morrow,- I am so tired ! 
 
 Saturday, August 28th. 
 
 As I was still thinking of Mario's story, I saw papa coin 
 ing towards me, and I ran at once to speak to him. As I 
 put my arms around his neck, I began all at Once to cry ; 
 I could not help it. 
 
 " But what is the matter ? " said papa. " Are you ill ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," I replied ; " but it is old Mario," and I sobbed 
 again. 
 
 " Are you crazy ? " asked papa. 
 
 " No, no ; but you are very naughty, papa," I said, 
 laughing and crying together. " Why have you never told 
 me what you had done ? " 
 
 " Will you please explain what you mean ? " 
 
 " Yes, papa, old Mario told me all abouj; it." 
 
 " Well, who is old Mario ? " 
 
 " Oh, papa, that is too much, for you to pretend not to 
 know old Mario. See, there he is below ; he seems to be 
 talking to that little sailor, but he "is watching us out of 
 the corner of his eye." 
 
 " You have made a conquest of the old fellow, then ? " 
 
 " No, papa, it was you. Do you not remember the Vir- 
 ginie and how, when Mario fell into the sea, you jumped in 
 to save him ? "
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 14:5 
 
 " Faith, yes ; so that is the poor devil, is it ? I should 
 not have known him, which is not very wonderful, since 
 it all happened fifteen years ago. But tell me, what made 
 my little girl cry about it ? " 
 
 As he spoke, papa tapped me kindly on the head. 
 
 " Because I was so happy and so proud, papa," I said. 
 " It was so brave of you was it not, mamma ? " Mamma 
 did not answer, but I saw her eyes were full of tears. 
 She held out her hand to papa, saying 
 
 " It was wrong of you, Edward, not to tell me this." 
 
 " There," I cried, " mamma thinks as I do ! " 
 
 " IS T ow, now," said papa, with his sly smile, " you women 
 must be sentimental about everything. It was nothing so 
 remarkable ; such things may happen at any time on board 
 ship, and one gets quite accustomed to them." 
 
 " Well," I said, " it has not happened to us yet, and I do 
 not believe that all the officers have saved somebody's life. 
 I shall ask the captain ; but will you not speak to Mario, 
 papa ; it would please him so much ? " 
 
 " Certainly, my child ; you can take me to him." Mamma 
 left us, whispering to me to bring Mario to her by-and-by. 
 
 " Well, my old friend," said papa to Mario, " so we are 
 once more afloat together aboard the same ship." 
 
 " Faith yes, captain, and happy enough it makes me to 
 see you again, with your lovely wife and pretty children, 
 especially this young miss. God bless her." 
 
 " You have quite turned her head, Mario. So you have 
 always kept to the sea, my friend." 
 
 " Faith yes, captain ; one can do nothing else after one 
 begins at it. I wager that you, like me, could not live 
 quietly now on dry land." 
 
 " I shall have to try," said papa, smiling ; " we will talk 
 by and-by, but I think I can be useful to you in some way." 
 7
 
 146 MAKGUEKITE AT SEA. 
 
 " I do not doubt it, captain, for God must have put me 
 in your charge, since He sent you into the sea after me. 
 However it may be, captain, old Mario belongs to you and 
 yours, heart and soul." 
 
 Papa smiled and held out his hand, whic|i Mario almost 
 shook off, and I could see a tear in his eye too. 
 
 While papa was talking to the other sailors, I asked 
 Mario if he could not come down to mamma, who wanted 
 to see him. 
 
 " In an hour," he said, " without fail, although it is al 
 most too much happiness for one day ! " 
 
 When I went down I told mamma and Mademoiselle all 
 Mario had said, and they were much touched by the story. 
 I was so sorry to be at my lessons when Mario came to see 
 mamma. I could hear his rough voice speaking. Mam 
 ma says he has a fine heart, and she would like to help 
 him. She offered him money, but he would not take it. 
 How I wish Gfustave knew all about Mario ! Mamma has 
 told Babet to take baby to speak to Mario whenever she 
 goes on deck with him. 
 
 Yesterday the sea was rough, but to-day it is calm, but 
 so hot ! 
 
 Sunday, August 29t7i. 
 
 Oh ! how stupid it is ! Here we are caught in what 
 they call a dead calm, and very tiresome it is. Since yes 
 terday we have not moved, and before that we were going 
 BO nicely. There is nothing to swell the sails, and they 
 hang down against the masts, ugly and dead, like Gustave's 
 great balloon after Berthe had pricked it. Every one looks 
 sober, the captain grumbles, and papa does not seern much 
 pleased. Mamma only says she cannot complain, since we 
 all keep well in spite of the intense heat.
 
 MAKGUEKITE AT SEA. 147 
 
 We had Mass this morning, and M. Bertrand gave us a 
 beautiful sermon on " confidence in God." Papa and the 
 captain were there, but only two of the other officers. 
 Mamma asked the captain why he did not have the Mass 
 on deck, so that the sailors could be present. But he said 
 he should be afraid that some of them would behave im 
 properly, as many of them are not at all religious. It 
 seems a great pity; but I am sure our good Mario cannot 
 feel so, for he spoke of God as helping papa to save him. 
 
 Monday, August 30#t. 
 
 1 It is still the same dreadful calm ; the sea looks like 
 oil, and it is terribly warm ; in a very short time we should 
 have been at the equator, had the wind continued to blow. 
 When we reach there we are to have the " baptism of the 
 line," which they say will amuse us very much. 
 
 I do not think I have ever spoken of our visit to 
 Madeira, for I was so sea-sick at that time that I could 
 not write my journal. We anchored at Madeira on the 
 twelfth day, I think, after leaving France, and how de 
 lighted I was to see the land again. I was so anxious to 
 go ashore, that papa proposed to take Marie, Jeanne and me 
 with him when he landed, and mamma allowed us to go. 
 
 We all went on horseback up on the heights, where we 
 could have a fine view, and also visit a church. I did not 
 feel quite at ease on horseback, but Marie and Jeanne 
 had been used to it at Bourbon. I was willing to try it, 
 however, as papa was there, and we had a guide such a 
 funny little man, with a pointed cap ; but I did not quite 
 like him, for whenever I told him my horse was going too 
 fast, he would seize hold of his tail to stop him, which 
 seemed to me very cruel. 
 
 But I enjoyed our little expedition very much. We saw
 
 148 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 all sorts of beautiful flowers and fruits; some of the latter 
 we tasted, but I do not think I like them as well as those 
 we have in France. 
 
 The beggars in Madeira were dreadful, much worse than 
 those we saw on our way to Brest. When we were tak 
 ing a little lunch before going back to the vessel, we saw 
 them looking in at the windows of the inn, and iriaking 
 signs to us for help. They were in crowds, men, women and 
 children, dirty 'and ragged. We could not give something 
 to each one, so we threw them some bread and a few sous, 
 which they seized eagerly. 
 
 When we approached the Canaries, they called us to 
 show us the famous Peak of Teneriffe. At first I could not 
 see any mountain at all, until they explained to me that it 
 was 'white instead of black, and I could see something 
 which looked like a sugar-loaf, while the islands them 
 selves were only a white line, which I had taken for a 
 cloud. 
 
 Yesterday we caught some nautilus, as we had done be 
 fore, and they amused us very much. These queer crea 
 tures look very pretty in the water, as they seem like little 
 vessels, with sails either pink, blue or white. But they are 
 not at all pretty when you examine them, for they are like 
 jelly and in long strings. They sting too quite badly when 
 you touch them. .Berthe had quite a hard cry yesterday, 
 for she would not listen when they told her these creatures 
 would burn her, but laid her hand on one, saying very de 
 cidedly," If they are not hot, they will not burn me ; " but she 
 found out her mistake, and now she says she will never 
 touch again one of "those ugly little ships." 
 
 Then the "grapes, of the Tropics" are very pretty. 
 Georget ha? brought me quite a number, which the sailors 
 have given him. What strange things there are in the
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 149 
 
 ocean ! These grapes are a sort of marine plant. Some 
 times we see great shoals of porpoises, which make the 
 water black for yards. The sailors say these fish know all 
 about the storms, and it would be a good thing if the cap 
 tain could talk to them and get their advice. 
 
 Tuesday, August Slst. 
 
 I am beginning to get very tired of seeing the sea so quiet. 
 Besides, the heat is very great, and makes us all feel badly. I 
 have headaches, and Marie has attacks of palpitation, which 
 trouble her very much. Last evening we were all on 
 deck trying to keep cool and amuse ourselves. Mamma 
 and papa, with Mademoiselle and the children, were all 
 listening to a story which M. Bertrand was telling, so 
 Marie and I leaned over the railing looking at the sea and 
 enjoying the moonlight. How beautiful it was, turning 
 the waves into silver, and wrapping us all around in its 
 soft light, while through it all the stars were shining 
 brightly over our heads ! 
 
 Marie and I were quiet for a long time, looking out over 
 the water, without speaking. At last, as I glanced at Marie 
 I was struck by her face ; one might have thought her an 
 angel, with the moonlight falling on her sweet face and 
 eyes, which seemed to see God. 
 
 I said : " O Marie, how beautiful it is ! " 
 
 " Yes indeed," she said, and her voice trembled, " and to 
 me it is so sweet and so sad too." I knew she was think 
 ing of her mother. 
 
 " Do you know, Marguerite," she continued, " that I 
 feel as if my poor mother was very near me now. The 
 sea is her grave." 
 
 " O Marie, and what a beautiful grave ! See how the 
 waves shine before us."
 
 150 MA.RGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 "Yes, and when I think of mamma I think always of 
 heaven, and with this grand sight before me, which tells 
 me of God, I feel she is very near." 
 
 " O Marie," I said, " one ought to be very good to go to 
 heaven." Marie raised her eyes and said very earnestly : 
 
 " When, oh when shall we go, Marguerite ! " I was a 
 little startled, and replied : 
 
 " But, Marie, do you really want to go at once ? " 
 
 " If it depended upon me, Marguerite, do you think I 
 would hesitate about going to my mother ? " 
 
 " But you would leave so many behind, Marie. Think 
 of me, of. Jeanne, Alberic, mamma, and Mademoiselle, who 
 belong now to you as well as to me ! " Marie smiled and, 
 putting her arm around me, said : 
 
 " Do not be afraid ; I must wait, 'for I am not good 
 enough yet for God to call me." 
 
 " So much the better, Marie, for then we can work to 
 gether to make ourselves good." 
 
 " Oh, if it could only be together ! " said Marie. I had 
 quite forgotten that we were to separate so soon. 
 
 " O Marie ! " I cried, " I cannot believe but what God, 
 who is so good, will make something happen which shall 
 keep us together." 
 
 " I can hardly believe such a change possible, Margue 
 rite ; but even if we do not see each other, we can work 
 together. I ought not to have forgotten that we can pray 
 for each other, and then we can write." 
 
 " It is very sweet to love each other so well, Marie," I 
 said ; and' then for a long time we were quiet, until Made 
 moiselle came to call us. 
 
 Wednesday, September 1st. 
 
 I have a good deal to tell, and yet there is so much 
 noise all around me that it is hard to write. Besides,
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 151 
 
 there is a little rolling, and it seems so strange after being 
 quiet so long. I cannot complain, however, it is so pleas 
 ant to be going on. 
 
 Yesterday we had a very little breeze, just enough to 
 make us all hopeful. At the end of an hour they threw 
 the lead, and found we had made one knot. It was very 
 slow work, and in a little while we were standing stilU 
 again. Every one felt discouraged, and some said we 
 should stay where we were for a month. 
 
 Suddenly, at dinner-time, another little breeze came 
 whistling*around us, and this time it was better. At the 
 end of an hour we had made three knots, and the captain 
 tells us we shall cross the line to-morrow morning. 
 
 They have told us all sorts of stories about the line, but 
 fortunately Mademoiselle had explained it to me, so that 
 when M. Suze tried to laugh at me about it, 1 could show 
 him that I knew what he meant. I suppose it was wrong 
 in me to join M. Suze in teasing Adele, who really believes 
 that we shall see a great black line across the sky. 
 
 While we were talking about it, the other children came 
 up to us, which worried me, for I did not want Stephanie 
 and Berihe to hear such foolish stuff ; but neither did I 
 want to say anything to Adele, for M. Suze had promised 
 me that he would put something into the spy-glass to 
 morrow which would make Adele think there was a line in 
 the sky. 
 
 After dinner, as we were all on deck, and I was playing 
 with baby, we heard suddenly a shot, which seemed to 
 come from the top of the great mast. I was so startled I 
 began to tremble, baby began to scream, Berthe to cry, 
 while Stephanie ran to mamma for protection. In a mo 
 ment we saw a strange- looking figure coming down the 
 mast like a cat. He had a long whip in his hand, shining
 
 152 MARGUERITE AT SEA, 
 
 boots, and a splendid red vest. On his head he wore a 
 light wig, powdered, and tied in a pig-tail. We all began 
 to laugh. 
 
 He went up to the captain, who stood waiting for him 
 with a grave face. Bowing almost to the ground, he said, 
 in a very sharp voice: "Mr. Captain, his Majesty, the 
 Father of the Line, King of the Tropics of the Equator 
 and other ethereal domains, has sent me to your Excel 
 lency, to ask by what right you intrude upon the heart of 
 his kingdom, without first tendering your allegiance. In 
 order to express his sentiments better than can be done by 
 your humble servant, I present you this letter." He bowed 
 again, as he drew from his bosom an enormous letter, 
 which he handed to the captain. 
 
 After the captain had read the letter, he said to the 
 messenger quite gravely: 
 
 " I regret, my friend, that your royal master has sent 
 you upon so dangerous a voyage as you have had in de 
 scending from the sky. I hope his Majesty will not 
 cherish his anger against us, since we have offended him 
 unwittingly and from ignorance. I wouhi present my 
 excuses to him in person, but, since I cannot fojlow you 
 into the clouds, I must beg your master to come to us, as 
 suring him of a worthy reception." 
 
 "With these words, the captain slipped a five-franc piece 
 into the hands of the messenger, who bowed low and re 
 plied : 
 
 " I venture to hold you excused, Mr. Captain, and on 
 my word of honor announce the arrival of my august 
 master, Father of the Line, to take place to-morrow." 
 Then bowing again, and snapping his whip, he began 
 climbing the mast. We were all laughing, and asking 
 the captain all sorts of questions, when he cried suddenly,
 
 MAEGTJEKITE AT SEA. 153 
 
 " Away with the little admiral ! " as every one calls 
 baby. 
 
 Mamma ran off with baby just as a heavy shower of 
 beans, peas, and I do not know what, came tumbling upon 
 us. Every one ran for the captain's room, even Mine. 
 Bontems and the Sisters. Adele was asking every one 
 why such stupid jokes were permitted, and M. Suze told 
 her it was an old custom, not a joke at all, and that we 
 should not be able to cross the equator without it. 
 
 M. Suze told her all sorts of stories about it, and she 
 listened so eagerly I could hardly keep from laughing ; 
 but I saw Marie did not like it. When we went down 
 stairs Marie explained to Jeanne the real meaning of 
 crossing the line, and that we should really see nothing 
 to-morrow different from to-day. 
 
 " But, Marie," said Jeanne, " the officers say we shall 
 see a line in the sky, and Marguerite believes it, why 
 should not I ? " 
 
 It made me angry to see that Marie was going to spoil 
 our plan for a joke to-morrow, for Jeanne would tell 
 Adele, so I said crossly : 
 
 " No, I do not believe it ; but it was for a little fun that 
 we talked so, and I think it is very stupid that it should 
 be spoiled by such a little goose." 
 
 "It is you who are a goose," cried Jeanne; "is she 
 not, Marie ? " 
 
 " Hush," said Marie, " it is very wrong to use such 
 words." 
 
 " You mean to say I am naughty ? " I asked Marie ; 
 " that is very nice of you, and all for this ugly little girl." 
 
 Jeanne was about to answer me, but Marie stopped 
 her, which made me more angry ; and I went on to say a 
 great many hateful things to Jeanne. Jeanne cried, and 
 7*
 
 154 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 Marie kissed and consoled her. I felt how wrong I was, 
 but I did not say a word. 
 
 Mademoiselle came in and asked what was the matter, 
 when she saw my cross face, but I did not answer her, and 
 climbed into my berth without bidding Marie good-night. 
 I could not sleep, but tossed back and forth feeling so 
 unhappy, and wishing I could speak to Marie. 
 
 I coughed softly to see if she would hear me, and in a 
 moment she coughed as if in answer. I put out my head 
 and said very softly : 
 
 " Are you asleep, Marie ? " 
 
 " How could I sleep, when we had not said good-night 
 to each other ? " 
 
 " Oh, how good you are ! Wait one minute." I 
 slipped out of rny berth, and in a moment I was with 
 Marie, with my arms around her neck. 
 
 " Will you forgive me ? " I said. 
 
 " Yes indeed, my dear little sister." 
 
 " Ah, you call me your sister, but you love Jeanne best." 
 
 " And why should T not ? Just think of it, she has no 
 mother, and I must be both mother and sister to her." 
 
 " Yes, yes, you are right, dear Marie, and I was all 
 wrong from the beginning. Tell me that you will forget 
 the ugly words 1 said, and love me again." 
 
 " I will, indeed, dear little sister, and I will ask you to 
 forgive me." 
 
 " Oh, 1 wish I had some cause to forgive you, or rather I 
 wish I were not always wrong." Marie laughed, and with 
 a kiss, we were friends once more. 
 
 I was so happy to be with her, that I stayed in Marie's 
 bed all night, and in the morning I ran to Jeanne and 
 asked her to forgive what I had said. I told Made 
 moiselle^ too, all about the dispute.
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 155 
 
 Thursday, September 2nd. 
 
 I am so glad that we still have a good breeze, for we 
 hope to arrive in a few days at Rio Janeiro, and there we 
 shall see my uncle Henry. 
 
 The captain asked mamma yesterday how it happened 
 that my uncle had entered the Brazilian Navy, being a 
 Frenchman. Mamma told him that uncle Henry had 
 been much attached to a young Brazilian in college, and 
 had decided to follow him to Brazil and enter the naval 
 service in that country. But she thought that at times 
 her brother had regretted the choice he had made. It is 
 six years since mamma has seen uncle Henry. 
 
 Yesterday morning we were all on deck very punctually 
 at eight o'clock, for at a quarter before nine we were 
 to pass the famous line. The sailors were all in good 
 spirits, and 'the officers were all staring at the sky, trying 
 to make us believe we should see something there. 
 
 When M. Sr.ze called Adele to look through the spy 
 glass, I felt quite ashamed, and tried to whisper to her, 
 but she would not stop, and ran off in great delight. In 
 a moment we heard her exclaiming in a very loud tone, 
 (and she always speaks loud enough): " Why, yes, I see 
 it of course 1 How beautiful it is, and it must be very 
 large and black for one to see it so plainly at such a 
 distance!" And so she went on, while everyone was 
 laughing at her. The more they laughed, the more she 
 talked ; perhaps she thought they were admiring her. 
 
 I felt really unhappj^, and could not laugh at all. At 
 last, while Laura was looking through the glass,! said to 
 her : 
 
 " But, Adele, they are only joking with you. Do you 
 not see how everyone is laughing ? " She grew very red, 
 and said :
 
 156 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 " Y/liat do you mean ? " 
 
 " Why, you know there is not really any line in the 
 sky." She was very angry at this, and exclai med : 
 
 " Do you expect me to believe any such stupidity ? Did 
 I not see it ? I have not a governess to be sure, I cannot 
 speak English, and do not make such a fuss about my 
 lessons, but I believe I have eyes, and can see." 
 
 " But, A dele, what has my speaking English to do with it ? " 
 
 " Oh you think you are so wise, and want every one else 
 to think so." She was too angry to say more, so, in order 
 to show her that I was right, M. Suze unscrewed the spy 
 glass and showed a thread from a spider's web which he 
 had put between the glasses. lie took it but, and wanted 
 her to look again at the sky. but she would not listen to 
 him. She said they were all very unkind, and she should 
 complain to her mother, and she added " If I were the 
 daughter of a governor, you would not treat me so ! " 
 M. Patre said " If you were lady-like, and well-behaved, 
 Mademoiselle, we should treat you like the daughter of a 
 king." Every one laughed, and Adele ran away crying. 
 I really felt sorry for her. 
 
 At this moment we heard shots from all sides, and 
 saw coming towards us a sort of low car, surrounded by a 
 crowd of sailors and cabin-boys disguised. In the car 
 was an old man and woman, and a young girl. They 
 cried out " Father Neptune ! Father Neptune ! " and all 
 the men took off their hats. 
 
 What a queer-looking old man he was ! He had a long 
 white beard made of worsted, which hung down to his 
 knees; he was dressed in sheeps' skins, and above his 
 brown wrinkled forehead he wore a sort of crown made of 
 gilt paper. His wife was bent almost double, and had 
 ribbons of every color and length hanging about her.
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 157 
 
 Their daughter, however, was very nice; she had quite a 
 sweet face, surrounded by long curls, and a broad pink 
 ribbon tied around her head, which was very becoming. 
 
 t/ O 
 
 They had chosen for the daughter the oldest of the cabin 
 boys, who looked really like a woman. 
 
 The car stopped at the poop, where the captain met it 
 dressed in full uniform. Father Neptune made him a 
 very spirited address (so they called it), asking privileges 
 for the members of his court, and favors for the crew, so 
 that they might remember passing through his domains. 
 
 The captain replied politely, giving him a small sum of 
 money for himself and his followers, and promising the 
 crew a ration of fresh meat and brandy, with permission 
 to celebrate the day with proper honors. All the sailors 
 cried, " Long live the captain ! '' and Father Neptune gave 
 him his blessing. 
 
 He then retired, and established himself under a great 
 tent made of the sails, near the capstan. Here was 
 placed a great tub of water, and every one must be 
 baptized who had never passed the line before. All the 
 gentlemen had done so, and mamma was called first, 
 which she did not like very much. But papa slipped a 
 piece of money into the hand of the head man, so they 
 only dropped a little cologne water on her head. We 
 were all treated equally well, but when baby's turn came, 
 and they called out for the little admiral, he screamed so 
 at the sight of Father Neptune, that Babet had to carry 
 him away. Father Neptune sent his daughter to ask me 
 to come and speak to him, and at first I felt a little bit 
 afraid of him, but in a few moments I cried out: "Oh, I 
 know you, you forgot to change your voice." 
 
 " Be quiet, my child," said Mario, " do not betray me." 
 When it came to be Adele's turn to be baptized, they threw
 
 158 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 so much water over her face and neck, that she grew very 
 angry again. I do not know why they treated her so, 
 but perhaps she has not been kind to the sailors, or her 
 mother has not given them money. 
 
 , They did not baptize the Sisters out of respect, but the 
 priests took their turn, and laughed over it. Very soon 
 the sailors began to get pretty noisy, and mamma took us 
 all down stairs. What a racket they made, running and 
 shouting, pouring water in buckets from the mast-head to 
 baptize every one of the crew. The water ran over the 
 deck in all directions, and even into our rooms, which was 
 rather annoying. In the evening the sailors played games, 
 and sang in chorus, which was splendid to hear, in the 
 quiet night with the beautiful moonlight. 
 
 Friday, September 3rd. 
 
 Such a fright as we had yesterday ! I was just finishing 
 my Journal when suddenly I heard cries, and looking up 
 I saw something black and white falling from the deck 
 above, past our door down to the lower deck. We all 
 rushed out, fearing for the children, who were playing on 
 the upper deck, and my knees trembled so that I could 
 hardly stand. It was poor M. Patre, who had just finished 
 his watch, and quite forgetting that they had taken away 
 the ladders from the companion-way to mend them, he 
 had stepped off the deck and fallen. Most happily he 
 was not killed, nor even hurt, and almost as soon as he fell 
 lie was up again, looking very pale, with his uniform 
 torn and soiled, but declaring that he was not hurt at all. 
 The doctor wanted him to take something, but M. Patre 
 would not consent, but went at once to his room, after 
 thanking us for our anxiety. 
 
 Marnma felt so troubled about M Patre, that when tsho
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 159 
 
 found that the doctor could not persuade him to take any 
 thing, she prepared herself a glass of eau sucree with 
 orange flower water, and took it to.M. Patre's room. She 
 handed it to him, saying only, " For your mother's sake, 
 M. Patre, do not refuse me." lie looked at mamma, a 
 moment, while the tears came into his eyes, and replied, 
 " For my mother's sake, Mine., and I thank you for your 
 kindness." 
 
 To-day M. Patre is better, but he still looks pale. The 
 captain tells us that M. Patre is an only child, and that 
 his mother is terribly grieved whenever he leaves her. 
 M. Patre is very shy, but to-day he has seemed more 
 inclined to make acquaintance with us, and has even 
 talked a little to mamma about his mother. He seems very 
 kind and good. 
 
 Monday, September Gtk. 
 
 We had a sad day yesterday on account of poor Sister 
 Stephanie, who was so ill we thought she would die. To 
 day she is much better, but I think I shall always remem 
 ber how sweet and patient she has been. 
 
 How good. Sister Alexis is too ! I think I like her more 
 than any of the others. I am very glad always to talk to 
 her about poor people and such matters, but she will never 
 say a great deal about herself. When I ask her if she does 
 not feel unhappy to go so far away from her home into a 
 strange country, she only smiles, and says, " We go where 
 we are sent by our superiors; we feel that it is God who 
 sends us, and it is His will which we try to accomplish." 
 
 The doctor tells mamma that be has never seen any one 
 so patient and full of faith as Sister Stephanie has been. 
 For when they thought she might die at any moment, she 
 neither murmured nor trembled,but seemed composed and
 
 160 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 very happy. The doctor says she has a very weak chest, 
 but if she recovers from this attack and can reach Bourbon, 
 she will be much strengthened by the climate. 
 
 Marie and I have been watching the children to-day, to 
 prevent them from making any noise near the Sisters' room, 
 but we cannot stop the sailors, who have made a great deal 
 of bustle. The wind is very good and we go on nicely, 
 hoping soon to see Rio. 
 
 Wednesday, September 8th 
 
 We had Mass to-day, as it was the Nativity of the Holy 
 Virgin, and also because Sister Stephanie was so anxious 
 to have it. She is much better,aiid every one tries to spoil 
 her by being as good to her as possible. They put her 
 into a large arm-chair and wheeled her into the captain's 
 room, where M. Bertrand had Mass. 
 
 She did not seem very much tired, but so happy that it 
 was a pleasure to look at her, although she is still very thin 
 and pale. 
 
 Mademoiselle talked to us about the Holy Virgin, and 
 showed us how the story of her life ought to teach us 
 humility. She was born, lived and died in obscurity, 
 although she was the mother of our Blessed Lord. 
 
 Saturday, September llth. 
 
 Oh, I am almost too happy, for they tell us that to-morrow 
 we shall certainly reach Rio ! I do hope we shall find my 
 , uncle Henry there. Mamma wrote to him that we should 
 stop at Rio, but he may not li&ve received her letter. I 
 do not remember my uncle very well, for I was only four 
 years old when he was last in France. He has never seen 
 Berthe or baby, and Stephanie was only a baby when he 
 saw her. We are teaching baby to say " Godpapa," for 
 uncle Henry is his godfather, and baby is named for him.
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 161 
 
 Sunday, September 12t7i, in tlie roadstead of Rio Janeiro . 
 
 Well ! the captain did not deceive ns, and I am really 
 writing before the harbor of Hio ! I can hardly believe 
 that it is America that I see, and that such a little girl as 
 I has really made this great voyage. We are so happy 
 too to have no more rolling and pitching, and more than 
 all, \ve are so glad to think that papa has gone to look for 
 my nude. As I do not want to grow impatient with 
 waiting for them,I have begun to write about our arrival. 
 
 This morning at six o'clock they could see land from the 
 mast-head, but I did not see it until an hour later. We 
 had a fine breeze, and made straight for the land, which 
 every one was delighted to see. The Isere was looking 
 bright and fresh, for she has been all washed and even 
 painted outside within the last few days. Berthe was so 
 pleased to see the ship look so nicely, that she wanted to 
 put on her very prettiest dress this morning," so as to be 
 dressed like the Lsere," as she told mamma. 
 
 I am sorry to say that I felt almost unwilling to go to 
 Mass this morning, for I was so much interested in watch 
 ing the land grow more and more distinct. But I soon 
 felt ashamed of myself, and saw that I ought only to be 
 glad that I could thank God for having brought us so far 
 in safety and health. 
 
 When Mass was over, and we left the cabin, I shall never 
 forget how I felt ! The land seemed so close to us, and 
 what a pleasure it was to see once more the trees, the 
 green grass, hills and valleys! Stephanie, Bei;the and 
 Jeanne were chattering like little parrots, and even baby 
 jumped and laughed in Marie's arms, although he did not 
 know what pleased us all. Every one was on deck, so 
 much amused and interested in watching the beautiful, 
 count ry. Even Sister Stephanie's sad eyes looked bright.
 
 162 MARGVEBITE AT SEA. 
 
 "We approached rather slowly it seemed to me, passed a 
 great fortress called Santa Cruz, and then entered a great 
 bay, which curving on each side of us allowed us to see 
 Ilio Janeiro on the left, and Ny thereby on the right hand, 
 while all around were mountains, forests, and everything 
 .beautifully green. The officers tell us that this is the 
 finest harbor in the world. 
 
 It amuses me so much to ,see the crowd of vessels, with 
 flags of all the nations, and then quantities of boats, 
 canoes, and piroques, passing back and forth, loaded with 
 men or with fruit, the negroes laughing and' talking, all 
 making such a pleasant noise and bustle. While we were 
 at lunch the canoes came to us from all directions, bringing 
 us every kind of fruit to sell. There were bananas, cocoa- 
 nuts, and guavas, but above all such beautiful oranges ! 
 
 As we came up the harbor, we hoisted our flag, and all 
 the crew took off their hats to greet it. It made the tears 
 come into my eyes. Then they began to fire a salute, and 
 the noise of the cannon almost deafened us, and frightened 
 the children very much. When the noise was over, and 
 the smoke cleared away, what should we see sailing into 
 the harbor, with all sails set and flag flying, but a splendid 
 man-of-war, and it was French ! 
 
 When we recognized our dear blue, white and red flag, 
 how we all cried out ! 
 
 I was much amused too to see them cast anchor, to see* 
 the great chain running out, and to feel that it would hold 
 us so fast and firm. I wondered if the Isere felt as glad 
 to be quiet as I was. Presently we saw a boat coming 
 with some gentlemen in uniform, and I hoped it was my 
 uncle Henry. It was, however, the health-officer and some 
 others, who always visit every vessel that enters the harbor. 
 Papa made some inquiries about uncle Henry, but could
 
 MAEGUEEITE AT SEA. 163 
 
 only hear that he had returned from his voyage ; they 
 could not tell if he was in the city. Papa has gone ashore, 
 and has sent mamma word that uncle Henry was not in the 
 city, but he should follow him into the country and bring 
 him to us. Mamma is almost sick with impatience, and 
 Stephanie and I have been watching every boat that came 
 near us, until our eyes ache. We shall all write to Gus- 
 tave from here. 
 
 Friday, September \1th again at sea. 
 
 How much I have to tell ! I am afraid it will make my 
 Journal very long, and yet it is all so interesting that I 
 hardly know what to omit. I must go back to Srni- 
 day, when we spent a long, anxious day, waiting for papa 
 and rny uncle. It was very quiet and dull on the ship, for 
 almost every one had gone on shore ; even the Sisters had 
 gone to a convent in Rio. I felt quite envious to see 
 Adele go off with Mine. Bontems and the children, while 
 we stayed shut up on the ship. It was a bad feeling, I 
 know, but I was so impatient to go ashore myself. 
 
 After dinner we all were on deck, waiting and watching, 
 but no one came. At last, after eight o'clock, mamma was 
 obliged to go away to put baby to sleep, but we stayed with 
 Mademoiselle. Unfortunately a heavy shower soon drove 
 ns all below, and made me feel, I must say, very cross. 
 Suddenly we heard voices outside, and I ran out quickly, 
 to find, however, only Mine. Bontems and her party com 
 ing back. As I turned away, much disappointed, Adele 
 cried out, " O Marguerite, I have good news for you ! 
 Your uncle is coming, and he is very nice." I gave a 
 little cry, and Mine. Bontems added, " Do not tell your 
 mother too suddenly ; it may startle her." But I did not 
 listen, and rushed into mamma's room, crying as loud as I 
 could, " Mamma, mamma, uncle Henry! "
 
 164: MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 " Where ? " asked mamma, beginning to tremble. 
 
 "He has just come, I think." 
 
 " Stay here," said mamma, and she flew away up the 
 ladder and was out of sight in a moment. 
 
 They told me afterwards that, in spite of the heavy rain, 
 mamma ran across the deck to the place where they land 
 from the boats, just in time to see a large man in uniform 
 coming up the ladder. " Is it you, Henry ? " she cried. 
 
 " Oh my Elisa ! " he replied, and in another moment 
 mamma was in his arms, sobbing and embracing him, with 
 out thinking who might be looking at her. Georget told 
 me afterwards that all the men had tears in their eyes, as 
 they thought of the sisters and mothers they had left at 
 home. In a few moments papa took them away to his 
 room, and then how much talking had to be done ! 
 
 I was waiting below all this time, and thinking it was 
 not very kind for mamma to forget me so long. I felt al 
 most ready to cry. At last Jeanne cried out, " Marguerite, 
 I hear your mamma's voice ; " and then my heart began to 
 beat and I could not stir. I kept close to Stephanie, who 
 felt as shy as I did ; but Berthe ran out to meet them, crying, 
 " How d'ye do, uncle ? how d'ye do, papa ? '' Mamma 
 called to me : " Here, Marguerite, is the uncle you wanted 
 to see so much." 
 
 I did not move until my uncle said, in a voice that 
 touched my heart, " Why, Marguerite, is this the way you 
 receive me ? " and then I ran into his arms. As he kissed 
 Stephanie, he said to mamma, " This one is your very image, 
 Elisa." Then he looked at baby, who was asleep, and said, 
 " How beautiful he is ! I must kiss my little godson, cost 
 what it may ! " 
 
 Mamma then took my uncle to Mademoiselle, who had 
 not seen him since mamma and she were at school together,
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 165 
 
 and uncle Henry was at college. He held out his hand to 
 Mademoiselle, and saying, " I am sure you will let me treat 
 you as a brother, since you are both friend and sister to 
 Elisa," he kissed her without ceremony. Then he turned 
 to Marie and Jeanne, and said : " Oh, these are sisters of 
 my nieces ; well, I must kiss every one to-day." Marie 
 was a little surprised, but she saw how simple and kind 
 uncle Ilenrv was. and was not offended. In a few 
 
 \j 
 
 moments Stephanie and I were sitting one on each knee, 
 while Berthe looked at us rather reproachfully 'from her 
 .bed. 
 
 Uncle Henry then told us how papa had been obliged 
 to go some distance out of Rio to look for him at a friend's 
 house. As soon as they had had dinner they started to come 
 to us, had found Mine. Bontems just starting for our ship, 
 and, papa told us, uncle Henry gave up his nice covered 
 boat to her as it was raining, while he and papa came out 
 in a damp little canoe. Mine. Bontems was delighted 
 with such politeness ! 
 
 When my uncle went away, he told us we must all be 
 ready to go ashore with him the next day. Mamma told 
 him she was sure he would not have room for us all, but 
 he said gayly : " We will do what we can, and I know you 
 will not grumble." 
 
 Saturday, September 18t7i 
 
 I must interrupt my story about Rio to tell of a great 
 fright which we had last evening about Stephanie. We 
 were all on the poop, enjoying the fresh air and trying to 
 amuse mamma, who was very sad at leaving my uncle, 
 when suddenly the officer gave an order to the crew 
 which made it necessary for us to get out of the way. So 
 we pushed our chairs back against the little railing of the 
 poop, which is a dangerous-looking thing, as it has only a
 
 166 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 bar with no lattice work. I felt really frightened when I 
 saw how rough the sea was, but Mademoiselle, who always 
 thinks of others and not of herself, slipped between me 
 and the railing and held me fast. At this moment mam 
 ma exclaimed, in a voice which could be heard, in spite 
 of the waves and rattling ropes, " Stephanie ! " We 
 looked around and could see no Stephanie. I could feel 
 Mademoiselle's hand grow cold, but she called firmly, 
 " Stephanie ! " and then a little voice said, " Here I am." 
 "VVe turned, and there was Stephanie, with one hand around 
 the railing, under which she had slipped, and the other 
 hand grasping Mademoiselle's skirt. It made me tremble 
 to look at her. Mademoiselle seized her and gave her to 
 mamma, while we all exclaimed, " What were you doing 
 there, Stephanie?" The poor child could not answer, 
 but only hid her face on mamma's shoulder and cried. I 
 felt quite impatient and said : 
 
 " Why do you not speak, Stephanie ? You frightened 
 ITS almost to death, and now you will not tell us what you 
 were doing ! " 
 
 " It was nothing very strange," said Stephanie. " I was 
 holding Mademoiselle. Supppose she had fallen ? " 
 
 I felt so ashamed, and I kissed Stephanie, saying : 
 
 " Oh how much better you are than I am, for I only 
 thought of falling myself ! " 
 
 " But why do cry, my darling ? " said mamma. 
 
 "Because I was so afraid," replied Stephanie softly; 
 " the sea was so black ! " Poor little girl, we could not 
 wonder that she was frightened, and how brave she had 
 tried to be for Mademoiselle ! 
 
 Mamma and Mademoiselle did not praise her, but how 
 tender and loving they were to her when they took her 
 away to go to bed ! I felt so thankful that God had saved
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 167 
 
 her from the horrible death which she might have had. 
 As Marie and Jeanne and I were going to bed, we had a 
 long talk about Stephanie's unselfishness, and both Jeanne 
 and I concluded that we thought more of our own comfort 
 than any of the others. Mamma is always thinking of 
 other people, so is Marie, and Mademoiselle never thinks 
 of herself at all ; she is more like an angel than a woman. 
 I must pray to God to help me to be unselfish too. 
 
 I have been trying to-day to do something for others, 
 which was not very pleasant to myself, and it has made 
 me very happy. We were all playing on deck together, 
 when Laura Bontems caught her foot in a rope and fell.' 
 Adele picked her up, and exclaimed : 
 
 " There, you have torn your dress again ! How provok 
 ing it is, and I shall have to mend it ! But mamma will 
 
 O J 
 
 punish you." 
 
 Laura began to sob, " Oh, mamma will whip me ! 
 mamma will whip -me ! " 
 
 Marie came up to comfort her, while she said to Adele : 
 
 " Could you not mend her dress so that Mine. Bontems 
 would not notice it \ " 
 
 " Oh, indeed, how good you are to want me to work in 
 stead of playing ! It is bad enough when I have to sew." 
 
 " Well," said Marie, " come with me, Laura, and I will 
 do it for yon." 
 
 All of a sudden I thought I would like to make this little 
 sacrifice, so I begged Marie to let me take Laura and mend 
 her dress. Marie kindly consented, and although Adele 
 tried to laugh at me, I went off very happily, leading 
 Laura by the hand, Fortunately mamma has taught me 
 how to sew well, so I could mend the torn dress very nicely. 
 Adele felt ashamed, for she followed me, and waited for 
 Laura to go on with the game we were playing.
 
 168 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 To-day we have had a cannon exercise, which was very 
 amusing. All the gunners were at their pieces, while the 
 officers gave orders and commands, as if the ship were 
 being attacked. The cabin-boys were all placed at the 
 hatchways, passing up the cartridges as they were needed. 
 I could not help laughing to see our Georget working 
 so soberly. But I think our vessel would be very well de 
 fended if we met an enemy. 
 
 I like very much to see the gun exercise too, with the sail 
 ors all placed in line on the deck, with their neat, pretty 
 dress. I think I have never spoken of a ceremony which 
 takes place every evening, and which I always like to 
 watch. They call it " down all hammocks." At a certain 
 time a signal is given, the sailors form in line, and passing 
 along the bulwarks (which are the walls of the Isere) on 
 each side, they raise the tarpaulin, behind which is a sort of 
 wardrobe for their beds. Each man takes his bed, or 
 rather hammock, puts it on his back, and in a moment all 
 are in the battery, hanging their hammocks on hooks placed 
 there for that purpose. In another moment all are in bed. 
 
 Saturday, September Wth, 
 
 Punctually at nine o'clock, as my uncle had promised, 
 his boat was at the side of the Isere to take us ashore. 
 We were soon ready to go, merry enough all of us, and a 
 big boatful we made. It was queer work going down 
 the side of the ship on the funny little rope ladder, and 
 I do not think either mamma or Mademoiselle liked it 
 any better that I did. We had asked permission of the 
 captain to take Georget ashore with us to help Babet ; 
 and how happy he looked, with his bright eyes and white 
 teeth ! None of the other cabin-boys could go ashore, and 
 hard enough it must be for them.
 
 MAKGIJERITE AT SEA. 
 
 We had negroes to row our boat, and poor Berthe was 
 dreadfully afraid of them, and screamed so loudly when 
 one of them tried to carry her ashore that my uncle had 
 to take her, while baby, too, looked at them, with his blue 
 eyes very wide open. 
 
 How pleasant it w r as to be on the firm ground again ; 
 but at first we could hardly walk at all ; everything seemed 
 moving up and down, so that my uncle had to give 
 mamma his arm, while papa" helped Mademoiselle. I 
 wished for Gustave, not only to help me, but that he 
 might enjoy, too, all those new sights which amused us so 
 much. 
 
 The houses and streets all looked new and strange to 
 
 o 
 
 us. We met the negroes carrying packages and hurrying 
 past, singing as they went, which seemed very queer. 
 Some of the streets are very ugly and dirty ; but there are 
 two or three fine ones, and in one of these my uncle lives. 
 He only has the ground floor of a house, as he is on shore 
 very little, and the rest of the house is occupied by a M. 
 Daya and his wife. They very kindly gave up a couple 
 of rooms for us while we were there, and we were very 
 comfortable, with our mattresses on the floor. 
 
 Our first breakfast on shore was a great treat. Uncle 
 Harry asked each one to say what they liked best, so 
 mamma chose cafe au lait, Mademoiselle, Marie, Jeanne 
 and I asked for a salad, while Stephanie and Berthe cried 
 out for a cup of fresh milk. There were plenty of other 
 things on the table which were very nice. The fruit was 
 beautiful, and Jeanne cried out with joy when she saw 
 the cocoa-nut and palm trees like those at Bourbon. 
 
 The first time I saw a banana tree, I asked a question 
 which made every one laugh. The banana has very long, 
 large leaves, which are so thin and delicate that the least
 
 170 MAEGUEKITE AT SEA. 
 
 wind breaks them, and makes the edges of the leaves look 
 as if they were fringed. When I saw them I said, " O 
 Uncle Henry ! who amuses themselves by cutting these 
 leaves so carefully ? " It was very foolish, but I was sure 
 it was done on purpose. 
 
 I must stop to take my lunch, and rest a little. They 
 caught a chess-board this morning, and I want very much 
 to see it ; it is a very pretty bird, and has its name, I sup 
 pose, from its black and white feathers, which look like 
 the boards on which they play the game of chess. 
 
 But I must finish telling about Rio, and not interrupt 
 my story so often. Every day my uncle took us to drive 
 in a huge carriage that would hold us all. We went to 
 visit several friends of Uncle Henry, who have beautiful 
 country places not far from the city, and where every one 
 was very kind and polite to us. 
 
 In the city, my uncle took us to a milliner who had her 
 bonnets from Paris, and made us choose some to give him 
 pleasure ; and mine is charming. Then he was so good 
 in providing us with all sorts of nice things to take on 
 board ship with us : a big box of arrowroot, two great jars 
 full of guava preserves, oranges, and many other nice 
 things. 
 
 But I think what I like best of all are the books which 
 Uncle Henry gave to Marie and me to read. How we 
 shall enjoy them when we get tired of the sea and of our 
 amusements on the ship ! But I hear the children calling 
 out and laughing on deck, and I must go and see what is 
 the matter. 
 
 Monday, September 2QtJi. 
 
 As soon as I ran on deck yesterday I saw a great crowd 
 gathered about something on the poop. Every one was
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 171 
 
 there laughing and talking, and in the midst of them 
 were two strong sailors holding something which straggled 
 violently. As I came near them I saw they were holding 
 a huge bird that was moving its head back and forth, 
 trying in every way to escape, and it was so strong that 
 the sailors had hard work to hold it. Poor bird, it made 
 me unhappy to look at it ; and yet how beautiful it was ! 
 They told me it was an albatross, and they had caught it 
 with a hook while it was swimming after the ship like a 
 beautiful swan. They are going to try and keep it alive 
 for some days, but it will be too unhappy to live long, and 
 it seems very cruel to catch it. 
 
 But I must go back and write about Rio, only now I 
 have to tell about leaving there, which we were all so 
 sorry to do. Uncle Henry was so kind to me, almost like 
 my father, only he paid me compliments, which papa never 
 does. One day, when mamma was arranging my hair, 
 which has grown very long, Uncle Henry came in, and, 
 taking up one of my curls, said to mamma : 
 
 " What splendid hair the child has, Elisa ; it is as hand 
 some as yours." 
 
 " Do you think she looks like me ? " asked mamma ; 
 " people sometimes say she is my image, but others think 
 differently." 
 
 " No, she is not like either you or Guy on. ITer eyes are 
 a little like yours, only yours are soft and gentle, and her's 
 are bright and shining. But what a complexion she has ! 
 it is as fresh as a rose." 
 
 " Come, come," said mamma, " do not spoil my little 
 girl ; she does not think of such things yet." 
 
 " Do you believe it ? I will answer for it that Marguerite 
 knows already that she is very pretty, and graceful, 
 too."
 
 172 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 " Do yon mean me, uncle ? " I cried. " I do not think 
 BO at all, and I am sure that you are laughing at me." 
 
 " Oh, little hypocrite ! " said uncle, laughing heartily, 
 "you cannot deceive me; this is not the first time I 
 know that you have had a compliment." 
 
 " No, uncle, but Mademoiselle tells me that people only 
 say such things to little girls to please their parents." 
 
 " Well," said Uncle Henry, " I cannot say it to please 
 your mamma, for she looks almost angry with me." 
 
 " You are foolish, Henry," said mamma ; " but I hope 
 my Marguerite is too sensible to think much of such 
 things yet." 
 
 "Well, I am very sorry that Uncle Henry ever said such 
 things to me, for I have thought about it several times 
 since, and have looked in the glass to see if it was true ; 
 and I really think it was. I am. ashamed to tell Mademoi 
 selle, but I hope she will read about it in my Journal. 
 
 We went on board my uncle's ship, because mamma 
 wanted to see where and how he had lived. It was all 
 very nice, and I was delighted to find in his room such a 
 pretty little portrait of mamma when she was a little girl. 
 
 Oh how unhappy we were when our last day came ! 
 Even Mine. Daya cried, although she had known us but a 
 little while, but she had learned to love mamma, and was so 
 very fond of baby. We have all written long, long letters 
 to Gustave and AJberic, which we hope will reach them 
 safely. When the dinner was over, and the time came to 
 start for the vessel, how full our hearts were ! Even papa 
 looked sad, and poor mamma's tear? ' ...^ oeen falling for 
 a long time. 
 
 I heard Uncle Henry talking to her, as we went through 
 the streets, urging her to have good courage and faith for 
 the future.
 
 MAKGUEKITE AT SEA. 173 
 
 " O Henry ! " said mamma, " the future looks so dark to 
 me. I cannot tell you what sad presentiments I have. 
 The separation from you and from Gustave, the thought of 
 my children being exposed to this terrible climate oh how 
 it oppresses me ! " 
 
 " But you see how well they have borne the voyage thus 
 far, Elisa. Try to think only of the duty you are paying 
 to your husband, and believe that God will protect you all." 
 
 " And you will pray for me, Henry. You have not for 
 gotten the faith of your childhood nor the lessons of our 
 dear mother?" 
 
 " ISTo, Elisa, I shall never forget them, for a sailor's life 
 is well calculated to keep fresh all religious teachings. 
 Every day I learn something new of God's presence and 
 goodness. " 
 
 " God be thanked, " said mamma. " I know the sea is a 
 good teacher. Edward, too, is really religious, and I hope 
 the day will come " Here mamma whispered something 
 which I could not hear, but I knew what she meant that 
 some day papa would do what we all had prayed for so 
 earnestly. 
 
 Uncle Henry then spoke of Gustave, and told mamma 
 that it was quite probable that he might soon go to France, 
 where he would certainly visit his nephew, and mamrna 
 was comforted to think this might happen. 
 
 Uncle Henry went with' us on board the Isere, and re 
 mained for some time walking up and down the deck with 
 papa and mamma. I felt proud that all the officers should 
 see him, for he looked so handsome. He is very fair, in 
 stead of dark, like mamma, and with his tall, fine figure 
 and pleasant face, makes every one admire him. 
 
 It was indeed very hard to say good-by, and poor mam 
 ma could hardly make-up her mind to let him go. He
 
 174 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 tried to smile, when he kissed us all, but I could see that 
 he was really very sad. 
 
 The next morning I was waked at 5 o'clock by hearing 
 them raise the anchor, the sailors all walking back and 
 forth ; turning the capstan makes a great racket. I saw 
 poor mamma leaning out of the open port-hole, and strain 
 ing her eyes for a last look at Rio, where she was leaving 
 Uncle Henry. In a very little time the rolling and pitch 
 ing of the Isere began to make us all uncomfortable. 
 How strange it is that we cannot get used to it ! Poor 
 Gn stave ! it is two months to-day since we left him. 
 
 Tuesday, September 21st. 
 
 We Ijiave caught another albatross, and several smaller 
 birds. This morning M. Leblond brought me one as a 
 present, which the sailors had given him. As we were 
 playing with it, Marie came running down from the deck 
 to call us to see one which had just been caught with a 
 blue ribbon around its neck. We all tumbled up the lad 
 der one over the other in our eagerness to see this curi 
 osity. M. de Vere'showed us a little piece of paper which 
 he had found under the blue ribbon around the bird's 
 neck; on the paper was written, " Anna, on board the 
 Camille." How surprised we all were! and every one be 
 gan talking about this Anna and wondering who she 
 could be. Some of the officers thought she must be on 
 board a vessel quite near us, as the paper had not yet been 
 wet. I said she must be very kind, since she had set the 
 little bird free, and that I should do the same for mine. 
 
 When I brought it on deck, M. Suze made me put my 
 name on a piece of paper : " Marguerite, on board the 
 Isere," and then he added, as a joke, " regards to Anna."
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 175 
 
 "We all laughed at the idea of Anna reading this little 
 note, and sent off the little bird quite gayly. 
 
 Wednesday, September 22d. 
 
 Yesterday, after our lesson in the catechism, Mademoiselle 
 talked to us for some little time. Oar lesson had been on 
 the capital sins, and she spoke of the evils of pride and^ 
 vanity in such a way that I felt she was talking to 
 me about my being pleased at my uncle's compliments. 
 She told us of how much more importance it was that 
 our souls should be beautiful and pleasing in God's eyes 
 than that we should have pretty faces or graceful figures. 
 How often it might be that, in our pride and pleasure at 
 being pretty or graceful, we would forget the cleanness of 
 our souls, and then all would be marred and spoiled. 
 
 I felt truly ashamed that I had ever thought again of 
 what my uncle said, and after this I shall try to forget 
 it, and make my soul beautiful, or at least less ugly. 
 
 Friday, September 2th. 
 
 I could not w r rite my Journal yesterday, for the sea 
 was so rough. Oh how the ship rolled and pitched ! We 
 were all sea-sick, and could not do anything. Even Made 
 moiselle found it impossible. They tell us that we have 
 a head-wind, which makes the motion of the vessel so dis 
 agreeable. 
 
 Yesterday morning, as w r e were leaving our state-rooms 
 to go on deck, we heard loud shouts and laughter from 
 the battery, where the sailors were at breakfast. Berthe 
 ran forward to see what was the matter, but in a moment 
 she came rushing back with her eyes very wide open, ex 
 claiming, " A whale ! a whale has come in the port-hole ! " 
 Mademoiselle began to laugh, saying :
 
 176 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 " But, little goosey, that is not possible." 
 
 " Yes, Mile., for all the sailors cried out, { A whale ! ' " 
 
 " But did you see him ? " 
 
 " No, because I ran away ! " 
 
 "We all laughed, and went on to find the sailors wiping 
 up a pool of water, but no whale was to be seen. As I 
 passed by old Mario, I said to him : 
 
 " What is this that Berthe tells us about a whale?" 
 Mario laughed heartily, as he replied : 
 
 " Oh ! ha ! we sailors call it a whale, when a big wave 
 jumps in on us without asking our leave. One came just 
 now to make sauce for our breakfast." The sailors have 
 strange names for many things ; they call the little waves 
 covered with foam sheep and sometimes we can hardly 
 understand what they are talking about. 
 
 We often see sharks around our ship, and once they 
 actually caught one. What a great, horrible thing it was ! 
 All of us children ran away ; but I went into papa's 
 room, and peeped out of the window ; but when I saw 
 how strong it was, and how it floundered about the deck, 
 striking great blows with its tail, I could not bear to look 
 at it. One of the sailors brought me afterwards such a 
 queer little fish, which he said they found on the shark's 
 back, where it always lives. It must be a strange home. 
 
 In the evening we saw the shark killed, and fastened 
 between two of the masts. It was immense fourteen feet 
 long, they said, and it made me shudder to look at the 
 rows of horrible, white sharp teeth, which close so firmly 
 over any one's arm or leg that they can seize. The 
 sailors ate the flesh of this horrid shark, but I would not 
 have touched it for all the world.
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 177 
 
 Sunday, September 26th. 
 
 We still have very rough weather. Yesterday I could 
 not write at all. This morning we had Mass in the cabin, 
 and poor mamma got out of bed to go, but she could 
 hardly stay until the end. If it is as stormy next Sunday, 
 we shall not try to have Mass, for which we shall all be 
 very sorry. 
 
 After Mass, Marie and I read a little together ; it was 
 a chapter on Humility. When she finished, Marie said to 
 me : 
 
 " You do not need these lessons, Marguerite, but I feel 
 that I do, and I have thought a great deal of what 
 Mademoiselle Yalmy said the other day about pride and 
 vanity." 
 
 "Why, Marie," I cried, "did you really think that 
 Mademoiselle was speaking to yon, when all the time she 
 was correcting me \ " 
 
 " That is not probable," said Marie, " for no one has less 
 pride than you, Marguerite." 
 
 " You are mistaken, Marie. I was beginning to be very 
 vain, because my uncle had paid me compliments ; but, 
 happily, since Mademoiselle spoke to me, I have tried to 
 feel differently. But tell me, Marie, are you proud of 
 your face too ? " 
 
 " Of my face ! " replied Marie ; " why should I be ? " 
 
 " Because you are very, very pretty." 
 
 " I do not think so ; indeed, I do not think of such 
 things at all." 
 
 " Then why do yon say you are proud ? " 
 
 " I can hardly tell yon, Marguerite. But I feel that I do 
 not like to be guided by others, nor to acknowledge myself 
 in the wrong, nor to feel that I make a mistake. I can 
 hardly explain my pride, even to myself, but I feel that I am
 
 178 MAKGI7ERITE AT SEA. 
 
 not gentle and humble-minded, as our Lord tells us we 
 should be." 
 
 " But, Marie, I think you blame yourself too much, for 
 you always ask ad vice" from mamma and Mademoiselle, 
 and often obey them, and you never complain of others, as 
 I do. Besides, you are willing to speak of your faults to 
 me, and I so much the younger." 
 
 " "What would you think of me, Marguerite, if I did not 
 listen to those whom God has so mercifully sent to me in 
 my loneliness ? But what shall I do when you are no 
 longer with me ? " 
 
 The tears were in Marie's eyes as I kissed her and whis 
 pered, " We will pray for you, my sister" 
 
 Thursday, September 30th. 
 
 Oh how frightened we have been during the last few 
 days ! - A storm at sea and on shore are very different 
 things. But it really makes me quite angry to hear the 
 captain and officers say that we were not in any danger, 
 because we were not very near the land. If our ship had 
 foundered, I think we should have been drowned quickly 
 enough without being thrown on the land. For my part, 
 I should prefer to have the ship run ashore, for then we 
 might have a little hope that some one would save us. 
 At any rate, I should like to see the land, if only for one 
 moment, before I died. 
 
 Sunday evening, after I wrote last, the storm grew 
 worse and worse^ We could not sleep, for the sailors 
 were constantly marching over our heads, as they obeyed 
 the orders of the officers of the watch. Whenever I 
 think of that horrid whistle of the boatswain's mate, it 
 makes me shudder. All through the dark night we could 
 hear k so sharp and shrill. Then there would be silence 
 on deck for a time, then a deep voice would say some-
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 179 
 
 thing, and the next moment the deck overhead was 
 trembling under the tread of many feet, as the sailors 
 obeyed the order of the officer on watch. 
 
 On Monday the rain and wind still continued. We 
 could not go on deck, the battery was quite dark, with all 
 the port-holes closed, and soon the companion-way was 
 covered by a hood of tarpaulin to keep out the rain. It 
 w r as very dull. Some of the officers were playing cards, 
 and the good priests, M. Verrier and M. Bertrand, came in 
 to see us, which was very pleasant. They told us a good 
 deal about their missions, which interested us very much. 
 
 On Tuesday the wind was still higher. The poor Isere 
 did not know what to do with herself ; she turned from 
 side to side as if 'she had a convulsion, groaning piteously, for 
 all her planks creaked and cracked. Papa came to tell us 
 not to think of going out to breakfast, for we could not 
 stand upright. The captain sent our breakfast to our 
 rooms, and if we had not been so frightened, it would 
 have been funny enough to take our breakfast sitting on 
 the Hoor like the sailors. The pitcher went in one direc 
 tion, our plates and cups in another, and we had to eat as 
 we could. Poor mamma looked very pale, and Made 
 moiselle was grave, and dear little baby was quite sick. 
 He is cutting some large teeth, and this stormy weather 
 makes him still worse. 
 
 We had to stay in the state-rooms all day, which was 
 horribly tiresome. I longed for the day to be over, and . 
 yet when night came, I was so frightened. Neither 
 mamma nor Mademoiselle, went to bed, and every now and 
 then papa would come in and talk to them about the 
 storm. At last Marie and I got up and dressed our 
 selves. The children were all in the lower berths, for they 
 could not keep in the upper ones. All that was on our
 
 180 MAKGUEKITE AT SEA. 
 
 shelves rolled off, the clothes on 'the hooks fell to the 
 ground, our trunks slid from one side to the other. What 
 a confusion it was ! As I begged papa to stay with us, 
 he sat down for a little while, but when he saw us so 
 frightened, he groaned and said " Oh, what women ! 
 what women ! " 
 
 At last, towards morning the storm fell a little. Yester 
 day was not so terrible, although the sea was still very 
 rough, and so black and gloomy ; we had quite lost our 
 beautiful blue water. 
 
 We are a great way from the Cape now, and they say 
 there is no danger.^ But as Marie and I were sitting on 
 deck for a moment last evening, we heard the captain say 
 to papa : 
 
 " We shall do, provided the wind does not rise again. It 
 has changed, and would whistle us a different tune from 
 this quarter, do you not think so ? " I saw papa look at me 
 out of the corner of his eye, while he replied : 
 
 " Oh, well, you can stand the whistle well enough, I 
 think." But Marie and I both felt troubled, and did not 
 tell mamma what we had heard. Oh, I hope that God 
 will have pity upon us. . 
 
 Tuesday, October 5th. 
 
 A very little more, and I should never have written my 
 Journal again. Every one acknowledges now that we were 
 very near to being lost. It makes one shudder to remem 
 ber those dreadful days and nights, and yet I must try to 
 write about them. 
 
 Well, Thursday night was, I believe, quite calm, but I do 
 not know much about what happened, as 1 slept so heavily. 
 But on Friday the vessel rolled heavily, and the sky was 
 very dark and covered by masses of black clouds; the 
 wind was so strong that we made ten knots an hour, and
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 181 
 
 thly said at that rate we should reach Bourbon in fifteen 
 days. But every one looked grave. 
 
 We made great progress before this strong wind until 
 midday on Saturday, but we were very uncomfortable. 
 The air was so heavy in the state-rooms, and yet it was 
 almost impossible to go on deck. Mademoiselle took Marie 
 and me up for a short time, but we were obliged to sit in 
 one place, and look at the black, angry, gloomy sea. 
 It made me feel almost terrified at the thought that per- 
 haps we should soon all be at its mercy. 
 
 When I spoke to Mile, about it, she reminded me that 
 God's eye was upon us always, and that 1 must try to think 
 of His care and protection. 
 
 " I know, Mademoiselle, that it is wrong to be so afraid," 
 I replied, "but it seems so terrible to be drowned." 
 
 " It must be a quick death," said Marie, " but I confess 
 I would rather die on shore." 
 
 " O Marie," I said, " you would only go to join your dear 
 mother, but I should have to see mine die, and the children, 
 and dear little baby." 
 
 " Do not let us talk about it any more, my children," said 
 Mademoiselle ; " let us have trust in God, and be hopeful." 
 
 At this moment the sailors began to make a change in the 
 sails, and we were obliged to go down again ; as we passed 
 through the battery, I heard one sailor say to another : 
 
 " Well, old fellow, this is getting to be pretty warm work. 
 In another hour the Isere will be dancing a fine jig!" 
 I grew very pale, and was about to scream out, when 
 Adele, who had also heard these words, began to cry with 
 all her might. Mine. Bontems was very angry, and scolded 
 the sailor for frightening her daughter, but he only 
 shrugged his shoulders and made no reply. 
 
 Both Marie and I had asked Mademoiselle to allow us
 
 182 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 to make a confession to M. Yerrier, in case the storm con 
 tinued so violent : we could not bear to think of dying with- 
 
 / O 
 
 out it. Mademoiselle had spoken to mamma about it, and 
 she had consented, so we had made our examination and 
 were prepared. Mademoiselle now came to tell us that 
 M. terrier was now with mamma, and that each of us v 
 should go to him in turn. 
 
 We all made our confession, and M. Yerrier spoke to us 
 all such beautiful and comforting words. Berthe was the 
 only one who did not confess, and she said so piteously : " So 
 I am the only one who has to keep their sins, and God will 
 be angry with me ! " So M. Yerrier told her she might 
 repeat some prayers, and acknowledge that she was 
 often naughty, which she did on her knees, and with 
 such a sober little face, that it was very sweet to see her. 
 
 We could not make up our minds to go to bed, for the 
 waves seemed growing more violent every moment. The 
 officers came from time to time to speak to us, and tried to 
 look very cheerful and smiling to encourage us, but we could 
 see they were anxious. Even papa tried to be gay, and 
 when I said to him, 
 
 " O papa ! why do you try to deceive us ? You do not 
 know how much courage God has given us ! " 
 
 " I shall put it to the proof, my child," he replied, as he 
 did indeed, but later. 
 
 Mamma begged Mademoiselle to go and ask after the 
 good Sisters, and she took me with her. We found them 
 calm and even smiling, and when I spoke of it, in surprise, 
 they replied : " Oh, we have seen many storms before this 
 one," which comforted me, as I thought we might, after 
 all, escape. We went to see Mme. Bontems, and found her 
 very much excited and frightened ; her state-room was 
 half full of water, and I felt very sorry for her. Made-
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 183 
 
 moiselle said all she could to comfort her, but she hardly 
 listened to what she said, and was almost rude. 
 
 Wednesday, October 6th. 
 
 We had a great fright yesterday about poor little baby. 
 He was lying on mamma's lap, when suddenly he was seized 
 with a sort of convulsion. It did not last but a moment, and 
 the doctor assures us that it was nothing very alarming, 
 as many children have convulsions when they are cutting 
 their teeth. Poor little fellow, he looks very pale to-day, 
 and mamma seems to feel much troubled about him. 
 
 But I must finish the history of our terrible storm. Well, 
 that unhappy Saturday night we children went to bed 
 about nine o'clock, but mamma and Mademoiselle remained 
 up. The wind howled so that it sounded like thunder, 
 and the sea beat against the port-hole as if it would burst 
 in at any moment. All of a sudden there came a great 
 crash, and the deck above us trembled as if it were giving 
 way. We thought the lightning had struck us, and mam 
 ma, falling on her knees, began to pray, while I sprang out 
 of bed and rushed into her arms, crying, " It is all over! 
 it is all over ! " Mademoiselle was very pale, but calm, and 
 she was trying to comfort Berthe, who was crying, while 
 Marie was quieting Jeanne. Stephanie slept like a little 
 angel. Poor Babet was so frightened that she looked gray 
 instead of black. 
 
 In a few moments, when we found the ship was still safe, 
 mamma exclaimed : 
 
 "I must have Edward; some one must call him ;" so 
 Mademoiselle opened the door, and, seeing M. Patre, 
 begged him to send papa to us. It seemed a long time 
 before papa came; he had been on deck watching the 
 storm. As he came in, mamma cried :
 
 184 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 " What has happened, Edward ? " 
 
 "Nothing new." 
 
 " But that clap of thunder, did you not hear it ? " 
 
 " Oh," said papa, smiling, " I know what you mean. You 
 heard that block which fell from the top of the main 
 mast on the deck, and it came very near my head, by- 
 the-by." 
 
 " O Edward !" cried mamma, " you must not go back 
 again. I beg you will stay with us." 
 
 " Why, my child," said papa, "it would be easier for you 
 to keep a fish alive without water than to keep a sailor 
 shut up in your state-room during a storm." 
 
 " Then the sea is everything to you," said mamma, with 
 tears in her eyes ; " you would rather let your wife and chil 
 dren die without you, than give up for a moment this 
 beautiful spectacle." 
 
 " You are crazy, dearest," said papa, kissing her. " If I 
 thought we were to die, I should be with you, trying to 
 save you, if possible. But it is not' as bad as that yet, and 
 now my place is on deck." Mamma then begged him to 
 promise that he would come back to us as soon as the 
 danger increased, to which he agreed at once. 
 
 We did not go to bed after this, but laid our mattresses 
 on the floor of the state-rooms, and tried to get a little 
 rest. At two o'clock in the morning, just as I was begin 
 ning to feel sleepy, I heard mamma cry out in a piercing 
 tone, " Edward ! my children ! Gustave 1" We started up 
 with a terrible shock, and then noticed that the rolling 
 and pitching had stopped entirely, and the ship was lean; 
 ing over and over always to one side, without raising 
 herself. 
 
 "Oh, what is it?" I cried. 
 
 " It is the end," said Jeanne, bursting into tears.
 
 MARGUEKITE AT SEA. 185 
 
 " Do not wake up the little ones," said Mademoiselle. 
 
 " Yon are right," replied mamma, " they will perhaps 
 suffer less. Come here, Marguerite ; cling to your mother;" 
 and she bent over and kissed baby, while she prayed, " O 
 dear Lord, have pity on my loved ones, on Edward, on me, 
 on us all. O Caroline, what a moment of agony ! " 
 
 " Take courage, my dearest," replied Mademoiselle, 
 kneeling down beside us, and drawing Marie and Jeanne 
 close to her. " Do not let us. despair, but pray." 
 
 I was so startled that I could not speak ; I had such a 
 sharp pain from trying not to scream that I was almost 
 choked, and I could only kiss mamma's hands, without 
 looking at her. We began to pray, hoping and hoping for 
 papa, for what seemed an age, although they said it was 
 a very short time. The ship was still leaning over, and 
 how dreadful the quiet was no cracking or rolling ! We 
 could hear all sorts of orders and commands from the 
 deck. At last, as our hearts seemed fainting; within us, 
 
 O 7 
 
 the ship cracked, creaked, moved, and then raised herself 
 very, very gently, and in a moment we were rolling again 
 as usual ! Oh how grateful we were to feel it again ! 
 
 Papa came at last, and when I rushed to him and 
 began to cry, he said, " What, tears again?" but he did not 
 scold me. Mamma held out her hand, and said : 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well," he replied, " it was a critical moment, but it is 
 past. In consequence of an order which was misunder 
 stood, the vessel was involved for a moment, but she has 
 righted herself." 
 
 "But, papa, the storm is just as bad as ever." 
 
 " You must try to get used to it, for it may last for 
 twenty-four hours yet." Papa stayed a little while with 
 us, and when he went away, I saw he looked grave.
 
 186 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 To-day again, at 3 o'clock. 
 
 Soon after papa had left us, we heard voices and cries 
 in the battery, and we could recognize Mme. Bontems' 
 sharp tones, as she bewailed her miserable condition, 
 shut up in a dark hole to die, without any one to pity her. 
 Mamma seemed sorry for her, and asked Mademoiselle 
 if she did not think we ought to ask Mine. Bontems to 
 come in to us. Mademoiselle said she had no doubt that 
 it would give her much comfort to be with us, so she went 
 out into the battery, in spite of the terrible rolling, to 
 speak to Mme. Bontems. 
 
 The poor woman was very glad to accept mamma's 
 offer, for. she was very lonely and unhappy. But she said 
 she was afraid that she would crowd us very much, and 
 she was sure that we only asked her from charity. When 
 they all came in, I whispered to Marie, " Let us try to be 
 amiable." So I offered. my mattress to Adele, telling her 
 she would find it quite comfortable. She replied, " Will 
 not you lie down too, then ? " 
 
 "Oh no!" 1 said, "I will sit up with Marie." She 
 smiled, as much as to say, " Always Marie ; " so I whispered 
 in Mademoiselle's ear : 
 
 " Is it wrong for me to prefer to die beside Marie rather 
 than Adele ? " Mademoiselle replied, softly : 
 
 " No, my child, but try to be kind and gentle, for re 
 member that God's eye is upon you." 
 
 We tried to make the children as comfortable as we 
 could, and they were soon asleep, but Mme. Bontems 
 would go on talking, which was very tiresome. 
 
 She said that she had just heard one of the officers say 
 that we were in greater danger now, for we were driving 
 on shore, but he hoped the wjnd would change. This 
 startled us all again horribly, and made poor mamma
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 187 
 
 very faint. Marie, who saw how much Mme. Bontems 
 tired mamma, managed to call her to look at little 
 Suzanne, and kept her talking for some time. 
 
 In the midst of it all I fell asleep, and when I waked 
 it was bright daylight, the Bontems family were gone, 
 and every one was awake. I could hardly dress myself, 
 for the rolling was so terrible, but as it was daylight, it 
 did not frighten me so much. Just as I was dressed, papa 
 came in, and said to me : 
 
 " Well, my daughter, I promised to put your courage to 
 the proof ; now is the time. Will you come on deck with 
 me and look at the sea ?" 
 
 " No, no, Edward," cried mamma, " I cannot allow it." 
 But I begged mamma so earnestly to let me go that, at 
 last, she consented, only making papa promise that he 
 would not let go my hand for a moment, and would bring 
 me back very soon. 
 
 " I want to teach Marguerite to be brave," said papa, 
 " and there is no danger whatever." 
 
 So I kissed mamma, and followed papa out of the 
 state-room, but I could not walk without holding his arm. 
 When we came to the foot of the ladder, papa said : 
 
 " Now you will see how the sea looks when it is angry ; 
 but let me see you behave like a sailor's daughter no 
 tears or screams." I did not reply, and at that moment I 
 saw the sea. I shall never forget it. It was horrible, and 
 yet beautiful, but it made me tremble. I can hardly 
 describe what I saw. The ship was plunging and tossing, 
 first one side and then the other, amongst waves that 
 seemed like mountains, whose foam dashed over the deck 
 into our faces. The deck was deserted, the water was 
 streaming in all directions, the wind howled as if furious 
 that it could not destroy us at once, and over all that
 
 188 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 gloomy, black sky. I should have shrunk back in horror, 
 but I remembered that behind those terrible clouds God 
 was looking at us, and could save us. 
 
 At this moment the captain passed us, and said : 
 
 " Why, Guy on, how could you bring that child to see 
 such a sight ? " 
 
 " I am hardening her," replied papa. He had me in 
 his arms, .and I was growing more accustomed to the waves, 
 when suddenly I saw a huge one coming towards us that I 
 felt must swallow us. I hid my face and clung to 
 papa as I felt a dash of cold water over me, and at the 
 same time a great blow, which seemed to tear me out of 
 papa's arms. I gave one little scream, and then I knew 
 nothing more until I opened my eyes to find myself lying 
 on papa's bed, while he was leaning over me with actually 
 tears in his eyes. 
 
 " I am not drowned then, papa," I cried, joyfully. 
 
 " Not a bit, little goose," he replied. " Come, try to feel 
 better, so that you can go to your mother, who may be a 
 little uneasy." 
 
 " Oli, I feel very well, papa ; but what happened ? " 
 
 " "What happened was a wave on top of your head, but 
 it -need not make you ill." 
 
 "But, papa, did you think I was cowardly to cry out?" 
 
 "No indeed, Marguerite; on the contrary, you are a 
 brave girl, and I am well pleased with you." 
 
 " How proud I was to hear papa call me brave. I shook 
 the water from my hair and my dress, so that mamma 
 should not see me too wet, and went down below feeling 
 very happy. I did not tell mamma about the big wave, 
 but I described it all to Mademoiselle and Marie. 
 
 . We could not have Mass on Sunday, as the sea was so 
 very rough, but M. Verrier came to see us in our state-rooms.
 
 MAKGUEKITE AT SEA. 189 
 
 At last God had pity upon us. Between eleven and 
 twelve o'clock papa came to us, and proposed that we 
 should all go up into his room on deck for a change of air. 
 We knew afterwards that he had taken us there, because our 
 danger had become so great that he wanted us where he 
 could do something towards saving us, if possible. At 
 this very moment the wind changed suddenly, as if by a 
 miracle, and we were soon driving away from the land as 
 quickly as we had before been driven towards it. Plow 
 happy every one was at once! The captain (who had not 
 left the deck before for many hours) came down to con 
 gratulate mamma and assure us of safety. We could hear 
 every one talking and laughing, when before it had been 
 so quiet, except the roaring wind and rushing waves. 
 
 When the captain and papa left us, we all fell on our 
 knees and thanked God with all our hearts for His mercy. 
 
 To-morrow we hope to pass that unhappy Cape, and 
 then we may hope for calmer weather. 
 
 Thursday, October 1th. 
 
 I hardly know how to write an account of my .morn ing, 
 for I have had a dispute, and to-day is my birthday, and I 
 am eleven years old. And besides, God has so lately saved 
 me from such a great danger. Dear Mademoiselle, pray 
 read this Journal, and give me some advice. I do not think 
 I was so very much in the wrong, and I wish you would 
 comfort me a little. 
 
 Of course my dispute was with Adele who always pro 
 vokes me so much. I was playing with the children, and 
 Adele would meddle, and prevent them from doing what I 
 said. When I told her she was very disagreeable, she 
 screamed out so loud that Mine. Bontems came and spoke 
 very crossly to me ; This made me so angry that, when her
 
 190 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 mother was gone, I told Adele that no one liked her, but 
 every one thought her very badly brought up, and I would 
 never play with her again ; that I had tried to 
 like her, because, Mademoiselle, you had urged me, but it 
 was of no use, etc. 
 
 But I need not tell you all I said. I know I was very dis 
 agreeable, but then Adele said a great many hateful things 
 about you, mamma, Marie, and all of us. I can see that 
 Adele has not really a good heart, for she forgets so soon 
 any kindness that mamma or you show her. I want to tell 
 you some of her faults now, because you will never listen 
 to me at any other time when I speak of them. 
 
 She is very affected, and always trying to make people 
 notice and admire her. She is very curious too, and always 
 repeats every word that she hears other people say, and 
 she does not always tell the truth when she repeats things 
 to her mother, which seems to me very wicked. 
 
 1 dare say she has good qualities, for she helps her mother 
 take care of the children, and Mine. Bontems is always 
 praising her for being so active and useful. But, dear 
 Mademoiselle, I cannot learn to like her, and as I have 
 told her I would not play with her any more, I must 
 keep my word ; so I beg you to say that I need not have 
 anything to do with her now. If we avoid each other, 
 there will be no more quarrels, which neither you nor 
 mamma like. 
 
 Please give me an answer in my Journal, dear Made 
 moiselle, for it would make me ashamed to talk to you 
 about it. 
 
 We passed the Cape last evening, which makes us all 
 feel more light-hearted. Poor baby seems quite ailing, 
 which makes mamma anxious ; Stephanie, too, is not well. 
 I was up early to-day, and ran to give papa and mamma a
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 191 
 
 birthday kiss. I do indeed feel like a big girl. Last 
 year at this time I was in France ; next year I shall be in. 
 Pondichery. How many changes ! Mamma gave me five 
 francs for my birthday and papa the same, but Stephanie 
 and.Berthe could not make me any present, as we are 
 at sea. 
 
 It is beautiful weather ; the sky and sea are so blue 
 that it is a pleasure to look at them, but we have little 
 wind, and go very slowly. 
 
 The same day 11 o'clock P.M. 
 REPLY TO MARGUERITE. 
 
 You must know, my dear child, that ever since you began, 
 to write your Journal conscientiously, I have felt much in 
 terested in it, but I have taken no part in it, except when 
 you asked me to do so. 1 shall write now a few lines, 
 because I feel that I cannot pass over what you have asked 
 in silence. 
 
 I am really grieved, my child, to see that, after all my 
 teachings, you understand so little the true meaning of 
 charity to love God, and to love others for His sake. 
 Or rather, you arc not wanting in understanding this love, 
 but you are not willing to practise it. Dare you say to 
 God that you are doing all that He commands in loving 
 and obeying those who are agreeable to you, and whose 
 conduct pleases you ? Is that what He means when He 
 tells you to "love your neighbor as yourself?" Why 
 should you except Adele from this rule? You draw a 
 horrible picture of her faults but did God refuse to love 
 even great sinners? 
 
 What right have you, Marguerite, to cast the first stone 
 at your neighbor ? If you can thus recount the faults of
 
 192 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 another, how can you expect that God will consent to over 
 look and pardon your sins ? It distresses me very much 
 to see how you could sit down quietly, when you were no 
 longer angry, and throw blame upon another, as it were, 
 "in cold blood." 
 
 You are wrong, too, in refusing to see her good quali 
 ties, and quite mistaken in saying, that she has not a good 
 heart. She is often self-denying for her mother, her sisters 
 and brothers, and is always ready to forgive an offence, 
 even if quick to take one. When you have quarreled, 
 were you to ask a favor of her, or hold out your hand to 
 make amends, you would then see how soon she would 
 forget and forgive. 
 
 But why should I say so much, when one word is 
 enough ? It is that which tells you to love your neighbor 
 for the love of God. I think that you love God, Margue 
 rite, or at least you wish to do so, for as yet your love is 
 very feeble and imperfect. You must love, then, His chil 
 dren, who are your brothers and sisters, and any sacrifice 
 which you can make in doing so will be acceptable in His 
 sight. You will see that I have asked you several 
 questions ; I will leave it to your own conscience to answer 
 them. 
 
 As to the permission to avoid Adele, for which I am 
 truly ashamed that you should have asked, I leave you 
 free to take it, if you can really feel that such conduct 
 would' be pleasing to God and agreeable to yourself. 
 
 O Marguerite, my dearest child, you who are the subject 
 of my most tender anxiety and my most earnest prayers, 
 do not disappoint and grieve me too much. Let me see 
 you, my child, filled and guided by that holy spirit of 
 charity, without which, we are told, that all other gifts 
 " are as nothing."
 
 MABGUEKITE AT SEA. 193 
 
 Friday, October 8th. 
 
 Oh, my dear good Mademoiselle, how much I thank you 
 for these reproaches ! They were very severe, to be sure, 
 , and cost me many tears, but they have done me so much 
 gocd. 
 
 I cannot bear to think that I ever asked Mademoiselle 
 for that horrible permission ; it makes me ashamed to re 
 member it. Without Mademoiselle, how wicked and un 
 kind I should have been ; but now that she has opened 
 my eyes, I mean really to try to be more just and amiable 
 toward Adele. After breakfast, when I met her on deck, 
 I told her that I was sorry that I had been so rude and 
 cross the day before ; and she was very pleasant, saying 
 she had forgotten all about it, and offering to play with 
 me at once. 
 
 This morning I was marked perfect for my History, 
 but I do not deserve much credit for it, as I was so much 
 interested in it that I could not well forget it. It was 
 about the deliverance of Jerusalem by those dear Cru 
 saders whom both Marie and I like so much. 
 
 The history of the Middle Ages interests me, too, greatly, 
 although at first it seemed to me very confused. How 
 pleasant it is to study, and oh ! how many things I have 
 still to le,arn ! 
 
 Wednesday, October IStk. 
 
 Oh ! I trust that God will again have pity upon us, for 
 we are all very unhappy. Poor baby is very, very sick, 
 and I can see that every one is anxious. Papa looks very 
 grave, and although the doctor tries to encourage us, I 
 cannot but remember how it was when M. de Laval was 
 so ill, and the doctor said every day that he was better. 
 The day after I wrote last, Marie and I were dreadfully 
 9
 
 194 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 startled by hearing mamma give a loud cry, and when we 
 ran into her room, we found that baby was in a severe 
 convulsion, his eyes wide open, and his poor little limbs 
 quite stiff. For three days he was almost constantly in a . 
 convulsion, and the doctor could do nothing to relieve 
 him, although he tried everything. Poor mamma is al 
 most in despair; she cries day and night, and without 
 Mademoiselle, I believe she would die. 
 
 I cannot bear to see our poor little darling suffer so 
 dreadfully, he whom every one has loved and petted. I 
 only wish that I could take his placje. 
 
 O my God ! I beg of you make my dear little brother 
 well again. He seems a little better to-day. Pray, pray, 
 continue to protect and help him. 
 
 Thursday, October 14ZA. 
 
 Baby was quiet all day, but last evening he had a terri 
 ble attack. When the convulsion was over, he was so cold 
 and still that we were all afraid he was No, I cannot 
 write it. The doctor was very much troubled, and mamma 
 nearly fainted. 
 
 Sister Alexis came to help us, and we all waited upon 
 the doctor and Mademoiselle, who were trying to revive 
 the poor little darling. Mademoiselle was so good to me, 
 and whenever she saw I could hardly control myself, she 
 would ask me to bring her something, or she would whis 
 per to me, " Go and pray for your little brother, my child." 
 
 A prayer always comforted me, but how sad it was to 
 see baby so changed. His face looked so old, and he 
 moaned constantly. When he opened his great blue eyes, 
 he did not seem to see us, and mamma would say so pite- 
 ously, " Look at me, my angel ! smile at your mother," it 
 brought teara into our eyes.
 
 MABGUEKITE AT SEA. 195 
 
 Once, when the door was open, I saw old Mario looking 
 in, and when he saw " the little admiral " so pale and 
 changed, and mamma kneeling beside the bed gazing at 
 him, he did not speak, but two great tears rolled down 
 his rough cheeks. I took hold of his hand and whispered, 
 " Pray for us," but he went away quickly without a reply, 
 although I could hear him muttering to himself, as he 
 went on deck. 
 
 The captain and officers seem really distressed, and 
 even the sailors try to be as quiet as possible. 
 
 The poor little darling sleeps constantly, but I can see 
 that this sleep makes them all uneasy. They are putting 
 compresses of vinegar and water on his head all the time, 
 but unfortunately we have no ice. 
 
 Stephanie is almost ill from grief, so Sister Honorine 
 has taken her to their room, where she will be away from 
 poor baby's sufferings. I am so glad that mamma and 
 Mademoiselle are willing to let me stay with them, for 
 1 cannot bear to be away from baby for a moment, I am 
 so afraid something might happen if I went away. 
 
 Sunday, October 2ktli. 
 
 Can I ever have the courage to write of our terrible 
 sorrow ? No, it is not possible, and I have cried, too, so 
 much that I can hardly see, and my hand shakes very 
 much. Oh, baby, baby ! dear little angel ! How can I 
 say that you are no longer with us ; that we shall never 
 see you again, except in heaven. Oh, it is too dreadful ! 
 I cannot submit to it ! I beg God will pardon me for 
 saying so, but I loved baby too much.
 
 196 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 Tuesday, October 26th. 
 
 I could not go on writing the other day, for I began to 
 eob and cry so hard that Mademoiselle came and took me 
 in her arms and told me I must put away my Journal. 
 To-day I feel better, and want so much to write that 
 Mademoiselle has consented, although she has made me 
 promise to stop as soon as I feel badly. 
 
 I feel that it will be a comfort to me to write about 
 baby, for it seems so blank and lonely now without him. 
 It seems as if every one were dead. It seems so hard to 
 believe it. He was just beginning to run about, and say 
 little words. He could call' our names, and he laughed 
 and played so sweetly. Mademoiselle tells me that we are 
 not the only ones who suffer, but when I think of poor 
 Gustave, and how he would feel 
 
 I had to stop again, for I could not help crying. Marie 
 was so good to me, and came to beg me to go on deck for 
 a little fresh air, but I could not bear to see the sunshine. 
 It makes my heart ache, too, to see poor mamma lying 
 there so still and pale, not eating or sleeping, and hardly 
 speaking to any one. 
 
 Wednesday, October 27th. 
 
 I have prayed for strength and courage to-day, before 
 beginning my Journal, for I want very much to tell about 
 our poor baby's death, both for my own sake and for 
 mamma's. Yesterday, when I began to cry again, and 
 could not finish writing, I thought I heard mamma's voice 
 calling me very feebly ; I ran to her side, and when she 
 opened her arms to me, I felt almost too happy, for it was 
 the first time she had noticed me for many days. After 
 kissing me many times, she asked me what I had been 
 doing.
 
 MAEGUEKITE AT SEA. 197 
 
 " I was trying to write my Journal, mamma." 
 
 " Poor child ! " she said, and two tears trickled over 
 her pale cheeks. 
 
 " But, dearest mamma, if yon wish, I will not write 
 about it." She looked at me very earnestly, and said : 
 
 " On the contrary, write all all" and then she fainted 
 away, as she has done many times since that sad da'y. 
 
 Mademoiselle came to her at once, to revive her as well as 
 she conld. AVhat should we have done without Mademoi 
 selle, she has been such a blessing to us all ! Mamma has 
 hardly looked at any of us now for several days. Poor 
 Berthe has been very unhappy about it, but Stephanie be 
 haves like a little angel ; she comes and kneels beside 
 mamma's bed and, kissing her hands, says : 
 
 " I will not speak of baby, dear little mamma, for that 
 hurts you, but I am going to pray for you here." 
 
 It is very sad to look at my dear papa, he is so un 
 happy ; and he shuts his sorrow all in his own heart, and 
 will not speak of it to any one. It even makes him seem 
 stern, so that I dare not say a word to him. It is as if we 
 had no papa or mamma just now, and what should we do 
 without Mademoiselle ? 
 
 Well, I see that where I last -spoke of poor baby, he was 
 sleeping very heavily, but it was not an easy sleep that 
 helped him. He breathed very hard, and seemed to suffer 
 all the time. Papa was very uneasy, and stayed with us 
 all that night. Mademoiselle allowed Marie and me to 
 stay with her, and we all watched together. Mamma never 
 left her place at the head of the bed, although papa urged 
 her to go away several times, but when he did so, she 
 passed her afm around Mademoiselle, and looked at him 
 so sternly that papa said no more. 
 
 The doctor was with us, constantly trying new remedies,
 
 198 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 which did not, however, relieve the poor little love at all ; 
 indeed, they only seemed to trouble him. At last mamma 
 turned to the doctor, and looking full in his face, with 
 such a piercing look in her eyes, said : 
 
 " Can you save him for me ? " The doctor said nothing, 
 but turned away his head. 
 
 "Then," cried mamma "you" can at least leave him in 
 peace," and she fell on her knees, putting her arms about 
 baby, while her tears poured over his face. 
 
 But when the terrible moment came nearer and nearer, 
 mamma was very calm, like a statue cut out of stone, 
 while papa walked up and down, and could not bear even 
 to look at baby. All Friday morning the poor darling 
 remained in the "same state, and we all knew that he was 
 dying. Oh how dreadful it was ! The kind Sisters came 
 constantly to see us, and sometimes Berthe and Stephanie 
 would steal to the door on tip-toe ; but they could not 
 keep back their sobs and tears, and had to go away at 
 once. The good priests helped us more than any one else, 
 for without them I do not know how poor mamma could 
 have borne it all. It was their words only which she 
 seemed to hear. 
 
 About two o'clock in the afternoon, as we were all 
 around baby, mamma suddenly gave a cry, and we saw 
 that the great blue eyes were open and looking into 
 mamma's face, while the poor little mouth was smiling 
 sweetly. Mamma bent over him/crying : " Oh, my angel ! 
 my darling ! do not leave me ! smile at me once more ! " 
 Baby looked at her for several minutes, smiling all the 
 time, and then, in a moment, we could not hear his breath. 
 It was over and he was in heaven.
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 199 
 
 Thursday, October 28^. 
 
 In spite of all my efforts, I had to stop writing yester 
 day, for the sobs almost choked me. It seemed to me as 
 if I could still hear mamma's piercing cries as she flung 
 herself beside baby^ " My love, my darling, my 
 baby, come back to me, or take me with you! What 
 shall I do without you ? " and many such heart-breaking^ 
 words. Poor papa broke down at last, and falling on his 
 knees beside Mademoiselle, he laid his head on dear little 
 baby's hands and cried like a child. 
 
 Mademoiselle was our comfort ; she turned at once to 
 mamma, who had clasped baby in her arms, and then 
 fainted away. She took the dear little angel away from 
 his poor mother, and leaving him in my care, she carried 
 mamma with the help of Babet into the other room, and 
 laid her on the bed. The doctor said we need not be 
 troubled for mamma at present, for the fainting fit was 
 really a relief to her. "When Mademoiselle had done all 
 that she could for mamma, she came back to baby, and 
 sent Marie and me to watch by mamma. All that we 
 could do was to kneel beside the bed, and pray with all 
 our hearts that God would comfort her and save her from 
 despair. 
 
 Mademoiselle washed and dressed dear baby so 
 sweetly, putting on a long white dress and little white 
 cap, from under which his pretty curls looked so beauti 
 fully. He looked as if he were asleep ; the look of pain 
 had quite gone from his dear little face, and as he lay on 
 Mademoiselle's lap, I could hardly believe that I should 
 never see his blue eyes open again, or the sweet little 
 mouth smile. 
 
 But it was too dreadful when mamma recovered from 
 her fainting fit, for suddenly we heard her cry : " My
 
 200 . MAKGUEKITE AT 8EA. 
 
 baby, Caroline, I want my baby." Mademoiselle and 
 papa both went to her and tried to calm her, but she only 
 asked for baby. She then tried to get up and go to him, 
 but she was too weak to stand. Mademoiselle then told 
 Babet to go and ask theMoctor and M. Verrier to come into 
 the next room, while she went and brought baby to mamma. 
 
 When poor mamma saw him looking so calm and smil 
 ing, she cried : 
 
 " Oh, Caroline, he is asleep, only asleep. Wake up my 
 darling, and look at me." But baby's eyes did not 
 open. Then she began to cover his face and hands with 
 kisses, sobbing as if her heart would break. Suddenly she 
 stopped, and looking at Mademoiselle earnestly, she said : 
 
 " No, Caroline, it is impossible. God cannot ask such a 
 sacrifice of me." And she broke out into sobs and cries. 
 M. Verrier came in and while he bent over and kissed 
 baby, he said gently to mamma : " God has given him to 
 you, my dear daughter, and now lie has taken him again. 
 Cannot you say, ' Blessed be His name ? ' ' 
 
 " Oh, M. Terrier, ask God to take me too, and I will 
 bless Him." 
 
 " And your other children, your husband, and that dear 
 eon that you have left in France ? " 
 
 " Oh, my Gustave. I had forgotten him. Edward, can 
 we ever live without our baby ? " 
 
 Papa took mamma's hand, but he could not speak, and 
 his eyes were full of tears. 
 
 Mamma continued to talk about baby, his sweetness 
 and pretty ways ; that she should keep him always as he 
 was now in her arms, no one must ask her to give him 
 up. At last she grew so excited that the doctor spoke to 
 papa and Mademoiselle, and said they must try to soothe 
 mamma and take baby from her.
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 201 
 
 It was very difficult, for poor mamma was not like 
 herself, but almost crazy. Both Mademoiselle and M. 
 Verrier talked to her so kindly and gently, and said so 
 many beautiful things about the love and pity which 
 God felt for her in her great sorrow, that at last, after a 
 long time, mamma yielded, and let them take baby, but 
 she fainted as she did so. 
 
 Friday, October 29th. 
 
 It is two weeks to-day since baby died. I shall never 
 forget the 15th of October, the most unhappy day of my 
 life. I want to write all the particulars of these sad 
 days, because mamma may. wish some time to see my 
 account, but now it seems as if it would be very very .long 
 before mamma could bear to read about it. 
 
 After baby was taken from poor mamma, he was 
 placed on the bed in our room, and there he remained all 
 night. How lovely and calm he looked ! Stephanie and 
 Berthe begged Mademoiselle to let them see -baby, and 
 she consented, for she felt sure that they would not be 
 shocked or frightened. It was touching enough to see 
 them standing beside the bed. Berthe thought he looked 
 so lovely, she could not bear to leave him. Poor Ste 
 phanie's heart was too full for her to say a word. 
 
 Mademoiselle wished to watch beside baby that night, 
 although the good Sisters offered to spare her the fatigue. 
 Marie was to sit by mamma, who had fallen into a heavy 
 sleep that we were afraid to disturb, and I begged 
 Mademoiselle to let me sit with her. She would not 
 allow me to sit up all night, but I stayed with her until 
 very late. What a beautiful night it was ; the port-hole 
 was open on account of the heat, and I could see the blue 
 sky covered with stars, and the calm sea over which we 
 9*
 
 202 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 passed so gently. It seemed so peaceful, and yet how sad 
 and heavy our hearts were ! 
 
 When Mademoiselle saw my tears falling, she took me 
 on her lap, and said so much to comfort me, that after a 
 little while without knowing it I fell asleep, and 
 Mademoiselle undressed me and put me to bed, without 
 waking me. 
 
 "When I waked the next morning, I felt such a weight 
 at my heart. " What can it be ? " I said to myself ; but 
 when I sat up and saw the bed, with the little white figure 
 upon it, I understood it all. Mademoiselle told me that 
 poor mamma had only aroused from her heavy sleep, to 
 fall into a sort of stupor, from which no one could rally 
 her, and that it was best not to disturb her at present, 
 since the}' must remove our dear little angel. " So soon, 
 take him so soon, Mademoiselle 1 " I cried. But Made 
 moiselle quieted me, and said it must be so, as they must 
 do what they could to preserve the dear little body, until 
 we could bury it at Bourbon, for mamma had begged so 
 earnestly that they would not put him into the sea. 
 
 " AV r here will they take him, Mademoiselle ? " I asked. 
 
 " To your papa's room, my child, but you cannot follow 
 him ; even I shall not stay with him." 
 
 What a shock it gave me ! I could hardly consent to 
 obey Mademoiselle. I went in to see mamma, after beg 
 ging Mademoiselle not to take baby away until I had 
 given him at least one last kiss. Mamma was lying quite 
 still with her eyes open, but she did not seem to see me, 
 and when I kissed her and spoke to her, she did not move. 
 It was terrible to see her. 
 
 When Mademoiselle had taken baby in her arms, and I 
 felt that soon he would be gone from our sight forever, I 
 had an attack almost like anger. It distresses me to think
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 203 
 
 of it now, but I believe I was crazy with sorrow. Sister 
 Alexis tried to quiet me, but I felt really angry with her, 
 and she was so good ! 
 
 Mademoiselle said that all the officers and sailors stood 
 with their heads uncovered as she came on deck with her 
 precious burden, and the captain came to meet her, with 
 tears running over his cheeks. He loved baby very dearly. 
 
 Unhappily, when my attack of anger seized me I must 
 have disturbed mamma, who no doubt suspected what 
 was happening. Suddenly, and before any one could 
 prevent her, she got off the bed and opened the little door 
 between the state-rooms. How startled I was to see her 
 standing there like a statue. She cried out so bitterly 
 when she saw the empty bed ! 
 
 Fortunately Mademoiselle soon came back and was able 
 to soothe her. But now she has become so languid and 
 sad, she never speaks to any one but Mademoiselle ; she 
 listens to the good priests, but she never answers them. 
 
 Sometimes she says to Mademoiselle, " Oh, why did I 
 come ? " but she never speaks so before papa, for she 
 knows how it would grieve him. The doctor seems to feel 
 very anxious about mamma, and he and papa have long 
 conversations about her. 
 
 
 
 Saturday, October '30th. 
 
 They tell us that we shall probably reach Bourbon now 
 in a few days. I do hope that the change of going ashore, 
 if only for a short time, will do mamma some good. I do 
 not feel as if she would ever be any better if she stays in 
 her state-room day after day. After we leave Bourbon 
 we shall still have five weeks at sea before we reach India. 
 
 How sad it makes me to think how soon we shall leave 
 Marie and Jeanne ! The sorrow of dear baby's death has 
 made me forget it a little, but now, when I begin to talk
 
 204 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 about Bourbon, 1 feel how hard it will be for all of us to 
 say good-by to Marie. She feels it too, I am sure, for I 
 often see the tears in her eyes. 
 
 I have been so much happier for the last two days, 
 because I have been able to talk to my dear papa, and 
 perhaps comfort him a little. It was Mademoiselle who 
 managed it. She came to me on Thursday evening, and 
 said : 
 
 "Marguerite, you must go on deck for a little fresh air. 
 What would your poor mother do if you were to be ill ? " 
 " Oh, Mademoiselle, " I replied, " unhappily it would 
 make little difference to mamma," and the tears were in 
 my eyes. Mademoiselle took me in her arms and said 
 earnestly : 
 
 " Do not think so, my child. Your poor mother is so 
 overwhelmed by her grief, that now she can feel nothing 
 else; but a mother's heart is always the same, full of ten 
 derness for her children. Your mother loves you dearly, 
 Marguerite, even if she does not show it now, and for her 
 sake you must take care of yourself." 
 
 "But, Mademoiselle, if I could only comfort her a 
 little!" 
 
 " You cannot understand, Marguerite, what it is to lose 
 a child. God alone can comfort her in this great sorrow ; 
 even the most tender and devoted love cannot do it, and 
 it is this thought which almost breaks my heart ! " Made 
 moiselle hid her face in her hands and could riot speak. 
 
 I threw my arms around her, and tried to console her, 
 for I could understand how bitter it must be to her to 
 feel that she could do nothing for mamma, whom she loved 
 so fondly. 
 
 When Mademoiselle had persuaded me to go on deck, 
 I found that it made me feel very badly to go up the
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 205 
 
 ladder, where they had carried dear little baby, and then 
 the fresh air made me feel quite faint, as I had so little 
 of it lately. Mademoiselle took me to papa's room, who 
 said rather sternly that I could stay there. 
 
 I felt almost afraid of papa at first, for he was so grave 
 and cold sitting at his table, with paper and ink before 
 him, but not writing a word. At last I said to him softly : 
 
 " Do I trouble you, papa ? " 
 
 He replied quite severely : 
 
 " Why do you ask ? " 
 
 I felt so frightened that I began to tremble and did 
 not say another word. Presently papa laid down his pen, 
 and looking at me said : 
 
 " Well, what do you want ? " 
 
 " Only to have you talk like my papa." 
 
 " Really ! But I do not feel like talking." 
 
 "It is just for that reason, papa, because you are un 
 happy, and I too, that we ought to understand each other." 
 
 Papa did not say anything, so I went on, with my heart 
 beating very fast : 
 
 " What will become of me, if you and mamma both keep 
 me away from you ? Mamma, as you see, is too ill, and 
 you " Papa looked as if he wanted to forbid me to go on. 
 " Well," 1 said, " I will not speak of you ; but indeed, indeed 
 I shall be ill if I cannot go near my mother or father," 
 and then my heart grew too full, and I burst into tears. 
 
 Papa got up, and taking my hand drew me down beside 
 him on the sofa, and I leaned my head on his shoulder and 
 cried still more. But papa did not scold me ; on the con 
 trary, I could feel him stroke my hair, and it made me so 
 happy ! After a little while I began to talk to him about 
 mamma and about our dear little angel, and he did not 
 seem to dislike it. When I put my arms around his neck,
 
 206 MAKGUERITE AT SEA. 
 
 and told him I wanted to kiss him for dear baby, he kissed 
 me very fondly in return, and I saw tears in his eyes. 
 
 Before I went down I said : 
 
 " Papa, I have a favor to ask of you." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " That you will let me come every day and stay a little 
 while with you, I like it so much ! " 
 
 " No, no, you had better be with your mother." 
 
 " Bat, papa, I could come here too. Besides, what can 
 I do for poor mamma now ? She does not even see me, 
 and I am sure she would like me to be with you." 
 
 " Very well," said papa, kissing me, " come whenever 
 you like." 
 
 And I have been there two or three times, and papa 
 smiles whenever I come. Mademoiselle says she thinks 
 he likes to have me. How glad I am ! 
 
 Monday, November 1st. 
 
 It seems as if there was always some new event coming 
 to us now! This about which I am going to write now 
 is partly pleasant and partly sad. Mamma does not 
 know about it yet, for she is so weak and feeble that we 
 do not talk to her of anything exciting. 
 
 Yesterday after Mass, Mademoiselle said to me : 
 
 " I will leave you with M. Guy on, Marguerite, for he 
 wants to speak to you." Papa had been at Mass, and it 
 has seemed to do him good, since baby's death. I looked 
 at him in surprise, but he beckoned me into his room, 
 and sitting down' said : 
 
 " I have asked for a private interview ; will you conde 
 scend to listen to me ? " 
 
 " Yes indeed, papa, but you pretend to be joking, and 
 yet you look sad."
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 207 
 
 " Yon are right, Marguerite, I do not feel very much 
 like joking. But listen to me and promise me to be calm." 
 
 " I will try, papa." 
 
 " "What would you say to staying at Bourbon, instead of 
 going on to India ? " 
 
 " Oh papa, I should be delighted if any one stayed." 
 
 " Every one will stay, if you mean your mother, Made 
 moiselle Yalmy, your sisters, etc." 
 
 " And what about you, papa ? " 
 
 Papa did not answer me, and I cried : 
 
 " But you could not go without us, papa ? It is impos 
 sible that you would think of leaving us 1" 
 
 Papa's voice trembled as he said : 
 
 " I am greatly troubled about your mother, Marguerite. 
 I am afraid to keep her any longer on the Isere, where 
 she has so many sad associations. My plan 'is to leave 
 her with the rest of you at Bourbon, until she can regain 
 her strength, and be able to fight better against her great 
 sorrow. The doctor advises it, and hopes much from the 
 benefit of the climate at Bourbon. You can all join me 
 afterwards in India." 
 
 " Oh papa, and you will have to go all alone ! You will 
 be so far away from us, suppose you should fall ill, and 
 you would have no one to nurse you ! Take me with you 
 at least, papa." Papa patted my head kindly, and replied 
 with a smile : 
 
 " I should like that well enough to be sure, but I could 
 not carry you away from your mamma, Mademoiselle 
 Yalmy, and there is Marie too. How does it happen that 
 you are not delighted at the idea of staying with her ? " 
 
 " Oh papa, it would make me very happy if I only had 
 you, but without you it will be miserable." 
 
 " Then you do love your father a little ? "
 
 208 MAKGUEEITE AT SEA. 
 
 "Oh papa, how naughty of you to ask such a ques 
 tion!" 
 
 Papa put his arm around me, and kissed me several 
 times, then he said gravely : 
 
 " We cannot avoid the separation this time, my child, 
 for the doctor tells me that it is the only way in which I 
 can hope to restore your poor mother. So now run and 
 talk to Marie of the plan, but be careful not to let your 
 mother hear of it at present." 
 
 Marie is so happy to keep us with her that she consoles 
 me in spite of my sorrow at losing papa. 
 
 Wednesday, November 3d. 
 
 Mamma now knows all. They were obliged to tell 
 her, as the captain says that we shall be at Bourbon to 
 morrow night. Mademoiselle undertook to tell mamma of 
 papa's plan, but it made a very trying scene for them all. 
 When papa came in, mamma threw herself into his arms 
 and begged him to forgive her for not showing more 
 courage, but she would try to do better, and then she im 
 plored him to give up the idea of leaving her. 
 
 " Edward, have pity on me," she said ; " do not ask 
 another sacrifice of me, in giving up you. It is more 
 than -I can bear." 
 
 After she had said this and much more, she grew pale, 
 and would have fallen, if papa had not caught her. 
 
 But papa would not allow himself to be persuaded, 
 although he was much grieved at mamma's distress. He 
 sat down beside her, and spoke so kindly and gently, tell- . 
 ing her all his reasons for making such a plan. He told 
 her how much better he thought it would be for all of us 
 to be prepared for the climate of India by staying for a 
 time at Bourbon.
 
 MARGUERITE AT SEA. 209 
 
 " Then stay with us at Bourbon," mamma begged. 
 But papa told her that that was impossible, since his duty 
 to his government would not admit of such delay. Papa 
 told her, too, how anxious both he and the doctor were 
 for her, if she remained any longer on board this sad 
 ship. 
 
 Mamma would not be convinced ; she said she should 
 carry her sorrow with her wherever she was, and that 
 since she had decided to go with papa, it was cruel for 
 him to leave her now. But after a time, when papa had 
 spoken of Marie and Jeanne, and how happy they were 
 to keep us with them for a time, mamma seemed to be 
 somewhat comforted, and she was also too much exhausted 
 to make any further objections. 
 
 Papa is to stay with us at any rate for a month at 
 Bourbon, which will be very pleasant. 
 
 Thursday, November kth. 
 
 To-day is Mademoiselle's birthday, and I have asked 
 God to bless her, and I have been to give her my good 
 wishes with many kisses. I have been able too to kiss 
 mamma, although she was very sick again last night, and 
 is so weak that she can hardly speak to-day. When I 
 whispered to her how happy it made me to be near her, 
 and feel that she really loved me, she said : 
 
 " Did you doubt it, my child ? " 
 
 " I thought you had forgotten me, mamma; you never 
 kissed me, or even spoke to me, and it made me so un 
 happy." Mamma clasped me in her arms and said: 
 
 " I need your kisses more than ever, my darling." 
 
 Marie and I have had a long talk about mamma, and 
 we both mean to try and nurse her so tenderly and care 
 fully that she will not miss papa too much. Marie loves
 
 210 MAKGUEKITE AT SEA. 
 
 mamma very dearly, and what a comfort and pleasure 
 her love is to me ! 
 
 They are calling me to come on deck, and see the land, 
 which we are approaching rapidly. Marie and Jeanne 
 both feel quite excited at getting to Bourbon again. 
 
 In the evening, 9 o'clock. 
 
 I want to add a few lines to my Journal, for perhaps 
 to-morrow I cannot write. I have seen Bourbon, and the 
 island seems quite small to me. Marie was quite dis 
 tressed at the thought of coming back without her mother. 
 She said softly to me : 
 
 " When 1 left here I had my dear mother, and I come 
 back an orphan." 
 
 " Oh no, Marie, do not say so," I replied, " for you have 
 . found a second mother." 
 
 The wind was favorable for us, but as we are not near 
 enough to Bourbon to enter the harbor before night, the 
 captain has decided not to attempt it until to-morrow. 
 At daybreak we shall anchor at Saint Denis, which is 
 the capital of Bourbon. 
 
 It is quite strange to see the flames of a volcano, from 
 one of the mountains of Bourbon, of which Marie has 
 often told me. It looks like the fire from a great chim 
 ney, and is beautiful, as it is growing dark. 
 
 Oh how glad we shall be to leave the ship if we only 
 had our darling baby ! 
 
 Friday, November 5th. 
 
 The voyage is finished ; we have cast anchor. There 
 lies Bourbon before me, as I write. Papa called Marie, 
 Jeanne, and myself very early this morning, so that we 
 could go on deck with him to watch our arrival. "We
 
 MAKGTJEKITE AT SEA. 211 
 
 passed along the shores of the island so closely, that we 
 could see people walking about gentlemen in straw hats 
 and white pantaloons, and a good many negroes. M. 
 Suze pointed out the different parts of the Island to us ; 
 and Marie and Jeanne were quite touched when they saw 
 first what they call the Champ-Borne, for it is there that 
 their uncle, M. de la Gaze, lives, and farther on, the 
 Quartier Frai^ais, where an aunt lives. 
 1 We arrived at last at Saint Denis; but it is tiresome 
 that there is no harbor, it is like bein^ anchored in the 
 
 ' . O 
 
 open sea. 
 
 The town is very pretty, lying at the foot of a dark 
 mountain, which makes a fine contrast with the white 
 houses, each surrounded by a pretty garden. It looks 
 very bright and gay. 
 
 Papa has gone on shore to see the Governor, and make 
 arrangements for our leaving the ship. He was to see 
 M. de la Gaze too, and let him know about Marie and 
 Jeanne. Babet is crying for joy at the idea of seeing her 
 family again. Before I close my Journal, I want to 
 thank God for bringing us safely through this long and 
 dangerous voyage. I beg He will pardon me, if I have 
 been ungrateful in my sorrow about dear baby, and I hope 
 to be more patient and cheerful at Bourbon.
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON.
 
 MAEGUEEITE AT BOUEBOR 
 
 SAINT DENIS, ISLE BOURBON, Sunday, Dec. 5th. 
 
 |T is a month to-day since we arrived at Bourbon, 
 and I feel that it is quite time for me to begin my 
 regular work, and to write in my journal again. 
 Besides, I always feel my journal is a great comfort to me 
 when I am unhappy, and now I begin to feel so badly at 
 the idea of losing papa so soon. 
 
 He is to leave us on Thursday of this week, and I hardly 
 know what we shall do without him. He will not feel so 
 anxious now in leaving mamma, who has been somewhat 
 better during the last few days. She is still, however, very 
 weak, and has not been able as yet to go to dear baby's 
 grave, although she has wanted to do so very much. 
 
 But I want to write all about her last hours on the Isere, 
 for we remained on board some time after I had finished my 
 journal. Papa went on shore to visit the Governor, and 
 just as he was about to 'step into his boat to return to us, a 
 gentleman came up to him, and, asking if he was not Cap 
 tain Guyon, introduced himself as M. de la Gaze. Papa 
 was of course delighted to see him, and begged him to come 
 with him at once on board the Isere. 
 
 Marie and I were at the port-hole, very impatient at the 
 delay, when suddenly Jeanne exclaimed : 
 
 " I see uncle Adrieii with M. Guyon ! " how delighted
 
 216 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 we were ! Mademoiselle asked mamma if she felt able to 
 see M. de la Caze, and as mamrna said yes at once, a 
 very few moments brought papa and M. de la Caze to our 
 state-room. Jeanne wished to meet her uncle with a cry 
 of joy, while Marie grew very pale, and stood quite still. 
 M. de la Caze came up to Marie with tears in his eyes, and, 
 taking her in his arms, said to her most affectionately : 
 " My dearest Marie, what a pleasure to have you once 
 more ! But what cruel trials you have had, my child ! 
 My poor, poor sister. ' I seem to see her again, as I look at 
 you ; but we shall try to make you happy, my child ; the 
 whole household is rejoicing at your coming. Every one 
 will try to make you. forget your great sorrow." He then 
 turned to mamma, to whom papa presented him. Mamma 
 held out her hand, and said earnestly : 
 
 " God be thanked that I have been able to deliver to 
 you in safety my precious cha ge." The tears came again 
 into M. de la Gaze's eyes as he replied that no words 
 could express the gratitude he felt for the love and kind 
 ness which she had shown towards his nieces. Mamma 
 said, however, very simply: " Every mother would have 
 done the same, M. de la Caze." 
 
 Papa then took M. de la Caze away to talk to him 
 about settling us at Saint Denis, where the Governor had 
 told him we should be most comfortable. M. de la Caze 
 begged that papa would make use of his country-house, in 
 case he desired to leave the town, and said that he would 
 be most happy to look for a house for us in Saint Denis, 
 as papa was a stranger there. He wanted to take Marie 
 and Jeanne with him at once, but when he saw how dis 
 tressed both mamma and I were at giving them up so soon, 
 he consented to leave them with us, although their aunt 
 was so anxious to have them.
 
 MAEGTJERITE AT BOURBCHST. 217 
 
 It was really sad on the ship that evening, everything 
 was so quiet, the deck seemed deserted, for all the passen 
 gers had said good-by to us, and we were alone. It 
 is always hard to separate from those with whom one has 
 been day after day for so long a time. In saying good-by 
 to Adele, I forgot all about our quarrels, and as I kissed 
 her I said how glad I should be to see her on shore. She 
 promised she would come to see us. 
 
 As Marie and I were sitting on deck during the evening, 
 I said to her : 
 
 " See how mournful the Isere looks, as if she felt deserted 
 by every one ! " Just as I spoke a boat came near, and we 
 saw that in it was M. de la Gaze, who had come to see us 
 again. He went to mamma's room, where he stayed a long 
 time talking to mamma. 
 
 When we went down mamma called Marie and me, and 
 told us that M. de la Gaze had found a house for us already. 
 Mine. Dumont, his aunt, had most kindly insisted upon our 
 taking her house, as she was about to leave for the country, 
 and had no need of her house in town. 
 
 Papa and mamma did not want to accept this generous 
 offer at first, but wanted Mine. Dumont to let them hire 
 the house from her. M. de la Gaze, however, said that it 
 would only wound his aunt to propose such an arrange 
 ment, so there was nothing to do but accept her kindness 
 very gratefully. So M. de la Gaze was to come for us the 
 next morning, with all the necessary means of carrying us 
 and our baggage on shore. 
 
 Monday, December Qth. 
 
 I had to stop writing yesterday on account of the heat, 
 which was so great that I could not do anything comfort 
 ably." How strange it is to think that they are now suffer- 
 10
 
 218 MARGUERITE AT BOUKBON. 
 
 ing from the cold in Paris, where people are going about 
 stamping their feet and blowing their fingers ! 
 
 Well, M. de la Caze came for us the next morning with 
 a large boat, and the captain gave us a fine one belonging 
 to the Isere , so that we could all go ashore very nicely. 
 Poor mamma had to be carried on deck, and helped into 
 the boat. She had not left her room before since that 
 cruel day, and was so agitated that she fainted as she tried 
 to say good-by to the captain. There w T ere a good many 
 people on shore watching us land, which was embarrass 
 ing, so that we were very glad to find that M. de la Caze 
 had provided a chair with bearers for mamma, and a pal 
 anquin for the children, while Mademoiselle, Marie, and 
 myself drove in M. de la Gaze's carriage. What a caravan 
 we made ! If we only had had baby, how amused and 
 happy we should have been ! 
 
 We who were in the carriage reached the house first, 
 and even Marie felt a little shy at the idea of meeting 
 Madame Dumont. As we entered the enclosure, as they 
 call the garden, we saw Mine. Dumont sitting in the cov 
 ered gallery, and Marie then went to her and presented 
 Mademoiselle and me. I was glad that .1 knew before 
 hand how kind she was, for her manner seemed so stiff 
 and cold. But she made us very welcome, and although 
 her manner was stiff to mamma too, I saw the tears in her 
 eyes. 
 
 She stayed with us' several days, to see that we were 
 quite comfortable in our new home. She insisted on leav 
 ing some servants for us, in spite of all mamma could say, 
 and she showed Mademoiselle how she could carry on the 
 housekeeping with the least trouble. She left the " goden," 
 or storeroom, well provided with rice, sugar, coffee, and 
 other things, and indeed was as kind and thoughtful as
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 219 
 
 any one could possibly be. She has now gone to her 
 country-house, and left us in possession of our new home. 
 But I want to tell how it was that our darling baby was 
 brought ashore. It happened two days after our arrival, 
 and was a very touching sight. The captain, officers, and 
 all the passengers followed the little coffin to the church 
 and cemetery. Poor old Mario had asked to be allowed 
 to carry it, which he did, assisted by another sailor. They 
 told us it was really pitiable to see the rough old sailor stand 
 sobbing beside the o-rave which was to hold his " little 
 
 O c5 
 
 admiral/' while the tears ran over his brown cheeks. 
 
 Now it is all over, and baby sleeps in his little grave, 
 over which they have placed a slab of white marble, on 
 which are the words : " Given back to God, who gave him 
 to us." There is a cross at the head of the grave, and papa 
 has had some young trees, called filaos, planted about it, so 
 that it will not look so sad. I like the cemetery very 
 much, although it is not at all like Pere-la-Chaise, but is 
 quite close to the sea. 
 
 Tuesday, December 1th. 
 
 I began my lessons yesterday, but I found it a little 
 hard to study, and I am afraid that I have lost a good 
 deal. 
 
 I had a sweet letter from Marie this morning, with the 
 good news that her uncle had given her permission to 
 come and stay a few days with us, as papa was going away 
 so soon. It is just a month since she and Jeanne left us, 
 and I do not get used to their absence at all. Although 
 Marie writes to me very often, I seem to miss her more 
 and more every day. 
 
 I have forgotten to say that we all wrote to Gustave the 
 day after we landed here, as there was a vessel about to
 
 220 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 sail for France. Even poor mamma wrote a few lines to 
 her only son. 
 
 Sunday, December 12th. 
 
 We are constantly having new events, and the last one 
 was the departure of my dear papa. How much we miss 
 him, and how empty the house seems without him ! 
 
 How happy we were all made by seeing Marie and 
 Jeanne once more. I had grown .so impatient for them to 
 come, that, when they really arrived, and I had Marie once 
 more in my arms, I could hardly let her go, and I actually 
 cried for joy. 
 
 Marie thought mamma was looking very thin and pale ; 
 it is because she is so troubled at the idea of papa going 
 away. Sometimes I hear her saying, as if to herself : " To 
 have left one child, given up another, and now this new 
 separation comes upon me ! It is too cruel ! " 
 
 Sometimes she thinks she is quite strong enough now 
 to go with papa ; but both the doctor of the ship and the 
 one we have here say decidedly no. 
 
 I stopped a moment to eat my lunch, and how nice the 
 letchis were which Mme. Dumont sent us ! It is a very 
 pretty fruit, with its red skin and white flesh. 
 
 Mario and Georget both came to bid us good-by, and 
 poor little Georget really cried. He wanted me to write a 
 letter to his mother for him, but I thought it would please 
 her much more for him to write himself ; so Marie and I 
 both helped him, and he did very well, although his let 
 ters were very large and black. He was delighted when 
 mamma gave him a little more money than he had earned 
 by waiting upon us, and jumped for joy at seeing it. 
 
 Mario did not cry when he said good-by, but he looked 
 very sad, and when mamma took his rough hand in both 
 her soft ones, and thanked him for all that he had done
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 221 
 
 for her little angel, he could hardly speak. He would not 
 take any money at all from mamma, so at last she took a 
 locket which she wore from her neck, and asked him to 
 wear it always as a remembrance of her and baby. 
 
 "Faith, ma'am," said Mario, and his voice was quite 
 husky, " if ever there were angels on the earth, it was the 
 little one and you. It makes me better to see you, and if 
 you hear some day that old Mario has died like a Christian, 
 and not like a dog, it will be owing to you and the little 
 one." He hid the locket in his shirt, and said it should 
 never leave him. 
 
 Matnma made him very proud too, by putting papa in 
 his charge for the rest of the voyage, and it is a great com 
 fort to think how well he will watch over him. We gave 
 him a good dinner and some wine before he went back to 
 the ship, which made him very happy. 
 
 Monday, December 13th. ' 
 
 How well I remember all the details of our last even 
 ing with papa ! We were all together in mamma's room, 
 and she was suffering very much ; indeed we all felt so 
 badly that we could say very little. We were all gath 
 ered very close around papa, knowing how long it would 
 probably be before we could have him again. 
 
 As we were all- sitting looking mournfully at each other, 
 our man, Janvier, came in to announce the priests, who 
 wished to take leave of us. I think it was a comfort to 
 mamma to see them, although she was too weak to say 
 much to them. She thinks very highly of M. Verrier in 
 particular, and always listens to him very attentively. lie 
 talked a great deal to her of how she should accept this 
 present trial, and of how necessary it was to bear our crosa 
 in this world, if we hoped to enjoy heaven hereafter. He
 
 222 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 himself gives us the highest example of this courage, since 
 he has devoted his whole life to God's service. 
 
 Papa, too, seems to have great respect for these kind 
 priests, and says they are intelligent, tolerant, and zealous 
 men, in fact true apostles. Mamma confided papa to their 
 special care, and we all begged them to remember us in 
 their prayers. 
 
 The captain came to bid us good-by earlier in the day, 
 and spoke so kindly of papa, telling mamma that he looked 
 upon him as a, brother, and that he would do anything he 
 could for him during the rest of the voyage. 
 
 It was very sad when papa left us to go to bed, for we 
 were very much afraid that we should not see him in the 
 morning. He would not promise to call us, and even 
 spoke quite sternly when we begged him to do so. Mad 
 emoiselle stayed with mamma ; and as soon as Marie and 
 I were in our room I confided to her my plan. It was to 
 sit up all night, so that I might watch for papa in the 
 morning, and give him a last kiss, in spite of himself. 
 Marie thought that Mademoiselle would not like me to sit 
 up, and even suggested that papa might scold me ; but I was 
 quite resolute, so she said she would share my watch. This 
 rather troubled me, but we were soon established in two 
 arm-chairs, and I made a resolve not to close my eyes. 
 But I was getting very drowsy w^hen some one came into 
 the room, waking me with a start. It was Mademoiselle, 
 who said gently, as if she suspected what we were doing : 
 " What does all this mean ? " 
 
 I threw my arms around her, and begged her so ear 
 nestly to let me carry out my plan, that she soon con 
 sented, and went back to mamma. 
 
 The night seemed terribly long, and if it had not been 
 for the cancrelas, a disgusting kind of beetle, I should
 
 MARGTJEKITE AT BOURBON. 223 
 
 certainly have fallen asleep a great many times. Those 
 horrid creatures seemed to have been sent especially to 
 keep me awake. 
 
 As soon as the daylight began to come, I grew very im 
 patient, and could hardly stay in my chair. Every one 
 was asleep, at least no one was moving, when suddenly 
 Marie said, " Listen ! " and I could hear very, very soft foot-> 
 steps passing the door. I peeped out and saw Janvier, 
 who went to papa's room. I felt that the time had come, 
 and how fast my heart beat ! 
 
 After a few moments Janvier went down and came 
 back with another negro, who helped him carry down 
 papa's last trunk. Then very soon I heard papa's door 
 open, and I knew he was coming himself, but I could not 
 stir. He went into Stephanie's and Berthe's room, looked 
 at them without speaking, then stopped for a moment at 
 our door, but did not come in, on account of Marie and 
 Jeanne. As he passed on I whispered quickly to Marie, 
 " Tell Mademoiselle," and ran softly after papa. 
 
 I took his hand and said in a whisper : " Do not scold me, 
 I wanted so much to kiss you once more." He only re 
 plied by pointing to mamma's door and saying, " Hush," 
 but he did not look angry. Papa took me into the parlor, 
 and, sitting down, placed me on his lap. 
 
 " When did you get up, little one ? " he asked. " It is 
 hardly daylight yet." 
 
 " I did not go to bed at all, papa, so as to be sure to see 
 you." The tears came into papa's eyes, and he kissed me 
 without speaking. But afterwards he spoke so kindly to 
 me about what I must do for mamma, as he left her in my 
 care ; that I must try to set a good example to my 
 sisters, and profit by all that my dear Mademoiselle would 
 do for me.
 
 224 MAEGTTERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 When at last papa got up to go, I clung to him and 
 begged him to wait only a very little longer, but he 
 would not yield, and we stepped out into the gallery to meet 
 there Mademoiselle and Marie. Mademoiselle came up to 
 papa, and, holding ont her hand, said : 
 
 " Did yon really think you could leave us so ? Elise is 
 waiting for you, you will not refuse to see her ! " 
 
 " Pray spare me this sad scene, dear Mile. Valmy," said 
 papa, pressing her hand. 
 
 " You need not be afraid," said Mademoiselle ; " Elise 
 will be calm, for she has spent the night in preparing for 
 this last interview." So papa went away to mamma, while 
 we remained waiting in the gallery. 
 
 When he came back to us, although he was very pale, 
 he was composed. He thanked Mademoiselle again and 
 again for having so encouraged and supported poor mam 
 ma as to make her quite brave at the last. But Mad 
 emoiselle would not allow him to praise her. 
 
 " It is not my work, M. G-uyon," she said ; " there is only 
 One who could comfort her, and to His care we commit 
 you ; " but her voice trembled too much to conclude. 
 
 " Papa," I exclaimed, " let me go on board with you ! " 
 
 " No, no, my child, it is too early ; and who would bring 
 you back ? " 
 
 " I am sure Mademoiselle would come." 
 
 "But how could I leave your poor mother?" asked 
 Mademoiselle. 
 
 " Wait one moment, and I will ask her," I said. 
 
 I found poor mamma weeping, but the moment she un 
 derstood what I wanted, she not only consented, but urged 
 us to go. 
 
 " But you, mamma ? " 
 
 " I need to be alone, my child, with God," she answered.
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 225 
 
 So in a few moments Mademoiselle, Marie, and I had 
 put on our bonnets, and started for the ship with papa. The 
 captain and officers were very kind, and made us welcome. 
 We went with papa to his cabin. How sad it was to 
 think how lonely he would be ! We could only stay a short 
 time, for they were already lifting the anchor, so the last 
 words had to be said, the last kiss given. May God pre 
 serve and guard my dear papa while he is away from us, 
 and grant that we may soon all be together. 
 
 Wednesday, December 15th. 
 
 While we were at breakfast yesterday Janvier brought 
 ns a letter from France ; it was from Gustave ! What a 
 pleasure it was ! I seized it to run at once to mamma with 
 it ; but Mademoiselle stopped me, as she said any sudden 
 shock, although pleasant, might do mamma harm. It was 
 such a good idea for papa to beg the governor to examine 
 the mail for India, and retain any letter which came for 
 mamma ; we should have had so much longer to wait had 
 Gustave's letter gone on to Pondicherry. How happy we 
 were to hear from him, and yet his letter cost mamma many 
 tears. He spoke so often of baby, sending him love and 
 kisses. Poor Gustave, what will he say ! 
 
 He told us that he had seen Alberic several times, and 
 liked him very much, which did not surprise me. We 
 were delighted, too, to find that both he and Alberic had 
 received the letters which we had sent by the Leonie. 
 
 Thursday, December 16th. 
 
 To-day it is the turn for Marie and Jeanne to be made 
 happy by a letter from Alberic. Marie has read it to us, 
 and you can see how warm-hearted Alberic is, in the ten 
 der way in which he writes to his sisters. He spoke very 
 10
 
 226 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 highly too of Gustavo, who is working very well, and 
 stands high in his class. I do hope that Gustave and Al- 
 beric will grow to be friends, such as Marie and I are, for 
 they will be so much happier now that we are so far from 
 them. 
 
 To-day I went to the catechism class for the first time 
 since I have been in Bourbon. How strange it all seemed ! 
 There were so many negroes among the scholars that I 
 was very much surprised. They are not slaves (as they are 
 taught separately) but mulattoes. 
 
 Marie and Jeanne, who were with me, told me that the 
 mulattoes were not received in society ; and when I asked 
 if it was because they were badly educated or not well be 
 haved, they said : " No, but it was not the custom to visit 
 them." Mademoiselle then explained to me that it was a 
 custom arising from a prejudice which she thought un 
 worthy of a Christian and kind-hearted people, and she 
 hoped the time would soon come when such prejudices 
 would disappear. It does seem very hard that they should 
 be shut out of society, when some of them are clever, ta 
 lented, and beautiful, only because they have a darker skin 
 than we have ! 
 
 Friday, December 17 tk. 
 
 "We have really had an event which has made me so 
 happy ! I am sure that God feels pity for us, and sends 
 us this pleasure to console us. Butxl have a long story to 
 tell about it. 
 
 M. de la Gaze arrived last evening, and we were all feel 
 ing very badly about giving up Marie and Jeanne again. 
 M. de la Gaze went out to pay some visits, and we were 
 all in mamma's room, talking sorrowfully of the separation. 
 All at once I cried :
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. * 227 
 
 " Oh, Marie, if I dared, I would beg your uncle to leave 
 you with us always ! " 
 
 " And why not ? " said mamma. I was so surprised that 
 for a moment I could not speak. 
 
 " Oh, mamma, I am sure you have a plan," I exclaimed 
 at last. 
 
 " Yes, I have a plan, which Caroline and I have dis 
 cussed very often of late. I hope to make M. de Gaze feel 
 as I do, provided that it will not make Marie and Jeanne 
 unhappy to leave their uncle and aunt." 
 
 "Not to be with you, dear Mme. Guy on ?" said Marie, 
 who was trembling as mu^h as I was. 
 
 Mamma then told us how much better she thought it 
 would be for Marie and Jeanne to be able to go on with 
 their studies under Mademoiselle's care, for they had al 
 ready made such good progress, and she hoped that M. de 
 la Gaze would feel willing to let us have his nieces while 
 we were in Bourbon. 
 
 How many plans we made, and how impatient I was for 
 M. de la Gaze to come in ! He did not return, however, un 
 til so late in the evening that mamma could not see him, 
 and I felt it very hard to go to bed in suspense. I could 
 hardly sleep, I was so anxious and excited. 
 
 This morning my lessons were all disarranged, as Marie 
 and Jeanne were to go away. M. de la Gaze was with 
 mamma for so long a time that the carriage was at the 
 door, and the servant had carried down the trunk before 
 we heard anything. 
 
 At last they called us, and we rushed pell-mell up the 
 staircase and into mamma's room, eager to hear what M. 
 de la Gaze had decided. Mamma held out her arms to the 
 two sisters, saying :
 
 228 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 " Thanks to God and your good uncle, I may keep you, 
 my dear little girls." 
 
 " So you want to rob me of my nieces, Mile. Marguerite ? " 
 said M. de la Gaze to me. 
 
 " Oh, yes," I cried, " for we love them so much ! " 
 
 Little by little we heard all about it. Mamma had asked 
 M. de la Caze what plans he had made to carry on his 
 nieces' education, and found that he and his wife felt that 
 the little girls would have to go to a boarding-school, much 
 as they regretted parting with them. Then mamma had 
 unfolded her plan to him, and he seemed much touched 
 by her generosity and thoughtf illness. He agreed with 
 mamma that his nieces could not hope to find elsewhere 
 such a teacher as Mademoiselle, and he only hesitated about 
 accepting mamma's kind offer from fear that he w T as asking 
 too much of both mamma and Mile. Yalmy. 
 
 How,ever, when mamma explained how it could give 
 us nothing but happiness to have Marie and Jeanne while 
 we were in Bourbon, he accepted the plan very, gratefully. 
 Only he wished to keep his nieces with him until the month 
 of January, so that their aunt may see them a little longer. 
 
 He also urged mamma to pay them a visit at once, as a 
 change of air might be good for us all, now that the heat 
 is so great. But mamma said she was not strong enough 
 to move at present, but hoped to come to them before we 
 left Bourbon. 
 
 Then M. de la Caze begged her to entrust Stephanie, 
 Berthe, and myself to his wife's care ; and after a little 
 time mamma consented to let Stephanie and me go to 
 make them a little visit next Thursday. Berthe was too 
 little to go away from hqme. We are to stay several days, 
 and come back to mamma for New- Year's Day, while 
 Marie and Jeanne will follow us a little later. It will be
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 229 
 
 the first time I have ever left mamma and Mademoiselle. 
 I am afraid 1 may be a little homesick, but then I shall 
 have Marie. 
 
 Sunday, December \Qth. 
 
 Oh ! this heat, it is almost enough to kill one ! Poor 
 Stephanie feels it very much, and is so languid and dull 
 that, if we would let her, she would sleep all the time. 
 Even Berthe, lively as she is, is overwhelmed by it, and 1 
 can do hardly anything. I fall asleep constantly over my 
 books, so that my lessons do not go on very well. 
 
 Poor Berthe was quite inconsolable when she heard that 
 Stephanie and I were to go to Champ -Borne, while she 
 remained at home. Mamma tried to console her by 
 promising to keep her in her room, and telling her that 
 she would have Mademoiselle all to herself ; but Berthe 
 still feels unhappy about it. 
 
 She distressed mamma very much yesterday by com 
 plaining of her " ugly black dress, that made her so warm," 
 so that mamma cried and asked her if she did not want 
 to wear any mourning for poor baby. This made Berthe 
 feel very penitent, and she promised mamma she would 
 never complain, of her dress again. But mamma and 
 Mademoiselle have concluded to have thinner dresses 
 made for us, and as a pedler arrived this morning we were 
 able to get something at once. 
 
 These pedlers are very amusing, with their great boxes 
 brought by negroes, and full of all sorts of pretty things. 
 They are usually women, and are very pleasant and well 
 behaved, and know very well how to sell their goods. 
 
 Last evening we had a great fright. We were all sitting 
 in the gallery, where it was a little cooler, and Berthe was 
 running back and forth ; suddenly she cried out : 
 
 " Maguitte, Maguitte, come and see this queer-looking
 
 230 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 creature crawling on the ground." Stephanie and I went 
 to see ; but as soon as I looked at it I felt sure it was a centi 
 pede, of which Marie and Jeanne had often told me that 
 they stung very hadly. So we called out at once for Jan 
 vier, who came and killed the creature for us. It was very 
 horrid-looking, flat, and brown, with rows of legs on each 
 side, and a pair of sharp claws. Janvier told us it bit 
 very badly, and now I feel all the time as if one was 
 crawling upon me. The beetles, too, last night really drove 
 me out of my room, and I begged Mademoiselle to let me 
 stay with her. She laughed at my cowardice, and told me 
 I must try to get used to them. 
 
 Tuesday, December 2lst. 
 
 Mamma was able to go for the first time yesterday to 
 the cemetery where dear baby was laid. She took me with 
 her, and of course Mademoiselle went too. We started 
 very early, to avoid the great heat of the day. 
 
 Mamma was very brave after we arrived at the cemetery 
 until we reached baby's grave, but then she gave such a 
 terrible cry, and fell on her knees almost fainting. I 
 begged Mademoiselle to take her away, for I was sure she 
 would be ill again. But Mademoiselle raised her very 
 gently, and spoke so sweetly to her, that, after a time, 
 mamma became more composed. 
 
 It was terrible to see .her at first, sometimes with tears 
 falling like rain, and then with her eyes quite dry, but 
 with such a look of despair in them that I was almost 
 frightened. 
 
 But Mademoiselle seemed to know what to say to her, 
 and she knelt beside her for a long, long time, talking of 
 baby, of heaven, and of the time when mamma should go 
 to him never to be parted again. Mamma was more calm 
 when we came away ; but the visit was too much for her,
 
 MAKGUERITE AT BOTJEBON. 231 
 
 and she had to go to bed when we reached home. She 
 picked a few flowers from baby's grave to send to papa. 
 
 N 
 
 Wednesday, December 22d. 
 
 We had a little rain yesterday, which was very refresh 
 ing to us all. We all sat out in the gallery during the even 
 ing, and were very happy, as mamma was able to be with us. 
 I cannot understand how Clara and her mother could find 
 it so dull in the country. It seems so charming to me, 
 although we are very quiet. The Creoles think we must 
 find it very dull after Paris, and are very kind in coming 
 to see us very often ; but when we are by ourselves there 
 is so much to hear and say that the time passes very 
 quickly.. 
 
 Stephanie and I love to hear mamma and Mademoiselle 
 talk about their school-days, and of all that they used to do 
 when they where young. It is all as interesting to me as 
 any very pleasant book. 
 
 Yesterday Mine. Yilliers sent us an enormous basket of 
 fruit, so that we might taste the nicest of everything which 
 they have in this country. 
 
 How many different kinds there were ! Mangoes of 
 several kinds, and very nice, like a very fine pear ; then 
 bunches of letchis ; large pine-apples, which were delicious ; 
 attes, a fruit that seems filled with perfumed cream ; sapotes 
 and pomegranates, which last are beautiful with their 
 bright-red seeds, and very cool and refreshing in this hot 
 climate. We hardly know Mine. Villiers, and she is cer 
 tainly very kind to us. 
 
 Mine. Vintimil, too, has been very polite, and sent us last 
 week a large quantity of fresh pork, sausages, black-pud 
 ding, and all sorts of pork preparations. M. Vintimil, too, 
 was so kind as to bring us this morning some mangoustans,
 
 232 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 a sort of fruit which is quite rare even here, and very 
 delicious. He took the trouble to send to one of his 
 cousins, who has this fruit, to get some of it expressly for 
 us. Certainly the Creoles are wonderfully kind and oblig 
 ing ; people would not take so much pains to please us in 
 France. What a strange country it is, too, where the trees 
 never lose their leaves, and where you never see frost or 
 snow ! 
 
 I think I have never spoken of the sugar-cane in my 
 journal, although I love them so much. We made acquaint 
 ance with them first at Rio. 
 
 Thursday, December 23d. 
 
 I was quite surprised this morning at catechism to see 
 Adele amongst the Sisters' scholars, and wearing their 
 uniform a white dress, blue sash, and straw bonnet with 
 blue ribbons. I was very glad to see her with the good 
 Sisters, for she needs so much to be taught. When she 
 was asked her catechism she recited very well, but in such 
 a very, very loud voice that I felt almost ashamed for her. 
 I tried to nod to her, but she seemed not to see me, although 
 she must have heard my name when I was called to 
 recite. 
 
 The church in Saint Denis is not at all handsome or 
 like those we have in France, but still I am very happy 
 there ; for somehow I do not feel so far away from France, 
 or papa, or Gustave, when I am in church. Mademoiselle 
 says it is because I feel there that I" belong to the great 
 family of Christians, which is found everywhere in the 
 world. 
 
 As I shall not be with Mademoiselle on Christmas-day, 
 she has said a good deal to me to prepare me for that 
 festival. I shall try to think often of her words, for they 
 make me feel always better, purer, and nearer to God.
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 233 
 
 1 shall miss one catechism, but I shall study the lesson. 
 all the same. Mamma and Mademoiselle have made me 
 promise to take my journal and write it regularly while I 
 am at Champ-Borne, as they will like to hear all that wo, 
 see and do there. 
 
 CHAMP-BORNE, Christmas-day. 
 
 It already seems to me an age since I left you, clear 
 mamma and Mademoiselle, although in reality we saw 
 you yesterday morning. Stephanie and I have been talk 
 ing about you to-day, and we hope that you are thinking 
 of us, and that Berthe is good and happy. 
 
 I must tell you, first of all, that we have been to Mass 
 this morning in the church of Saint Andre. I tried not to 
 be disturbed in my prayers by being in a strange church, 
 but I felt rather shy, for there were so many new people, 
 and every one looked at us. 
 
 I must tell you about our drive with M. de la Gaze, 
 which began very pleasantly, as the cabriolet was very com 
 fortable, and M. de la Gaze was very kind. He pointed 
 out different things to us as we drove, and was so pleasant 
 and lively that we were much amused. He talks very 
 animatedly, as I suppose you have noticed; he uses his 
 hands a great deal as he talks, and when he is excited his 
 eyes grow very bright. This surprises Stephanie very 
 much, because she is so quiet herself. 
 
 We passed several rivers on our journey, and near one 
 of them we noticed huge rocks lying about, and fields 
 covered with stones, which looked as if they had been 
 burnt, they were so black ; but when Stephanie asked if 
 there had been a great lire there, M. de la Gaze said : 
 
 '' Oh, no, all that is caused by a volcano, and you will 
 find such places all over the island." It seemed very 
 strange.
 
 234: MARGUERITE AT "BOURBON. 
 
 Both Stephanie and I were really frightened at one 
 place, called Sainte Marie, where we had to ford a river. 
 When I saw that the water came nearly as high as my 
 feet, I grew very pale, and Stephanie whispered : " Oh dear, 
 oh dear ! what will mamma do if we are drowned ? " I 
 think M. de la Gaze saw that we were afraid, and assured 
 us there was not the least danger ; but we were not satisfied 
 until we reached the other side. 
 
 At another place, called the Ravine des Chevres, we had a 
 beautiful view of the sea. The road wound down the side 
 of a hill so sharply that sometimes it seemed as if we 
 must plunge into the sea ; but how blue it was, and how 
 quiet ! I think dear papa must have fine weather. We 
 saw several vessels, but not the dear Isere. 
 
 At Sainte Suzanne, another place, M de la Gaze pointed 
 out a country-place called the Quartier-Frai^ais, where 
 Mme. Dumont lives. All the country-places have names ; 
 that of M. de la Gaze is Eadamier, on account of a splen 
 did tree of that name that shades nearly the whole court 
 yard. . 
 
 M, de la Gaze showed me all the different sorts of trees 
 bananas, palms, cocoa-nuts, and many others ; we saw, 
 too, the places wheue they make cloves and coffee, and also 
 many orangeries. We passed fields covered with sugar 
 cane, but most of it is now cut, as it is the time for working 
 it. It is a beautiful plant, with its long, slender stalk, and 
 delicate green leaves, which hang down so gracefully. 
 We saw maize and tapioca, the last of which M. de la Gaze 
 told me was very useful both for Hnan and animals. But 
 indeed I must stop, for I am very tired and will go and play. 
 
 Sunday, December 26tk. 
 
 We were all so disappointed this morning to find that 
 we could not go t'j Mass. I dare say, dear mamma and
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 235 
 
 Mademoiselle, that you will be surprised at this ; but it 
 could not be avoided, for M. de da Gaze's horse was sick, 
 and we could not get another. Marie and Jeanne, with 
 Stephanie and myself, read the prayers together, and tried 
 to be earnest and full of good thoughts. 
 
 But I must tell you about our arrival here. We were 
 beginning to feel terribly tired and hungry after our long 
 drive, when suddenly M. de la Gaze pointed to a large 
 filao standing before us, and said : 
 
 " That tree seems intended to point out my place, for it 
 stands just at the entrance of the avenue." Oh, how de 
 lighted we were to hear that we were so near the house ! 
 
 When we were about half-way up the avenue I began 
 to see the house. I noticed something white in the road be 
 fore us, which seemed coining toward us. I cried : " There 
 are some people." 
 
 " Oh, it is the children," said M. de la Gaze. I watched 
 the white figures coming towards us, but I could not see 
 Marie's black dress. How strange that she should not 
 come to welcome me ! 
 
 Stephanie began to feel shy at the idea of meeting 
 strangers, when I pushed her and asked : 
 
 " Does not one look like Marie, Stephanie .? " 
 
 " Oh, no," she replied, " for they all are in white." M. 
 de la Gaze heard us. and said : 
 
 " It is Marie, with Jeanne and my daughter Marianne. 
 My nieces are wearing white now at my request, on ac 
 count of the heat." This explained it all. 
 
 How glad I was to see Marie again, who looked strange 
 ly and yet very sweetly in her white dress. Jeanne, too, 
 looked very nicely, and I think these white muslin dresses, 
 which all the little girls wear here, are very pretty, so sim 
 ple and cool. Marianne de la Gaze had a very pretty
 
 236 MAJRGUERITE AT BOUKBON. 
 
 cherry-colored silk scarf tied around her neck, which 
 looked charmingly with her white dress. She is very 
 handsome, although very dark, with splendid black eyes, 
 and a very graceful figure. 
 
 We found the other children playing near the house, 
 and they aU rushed to welcome their father, but ran away 
 at once on seeing us. They are all very shy, even Marianne, 
 who hardly spoke to us at all the first day, and even now 
 says very little to us. 
 
 There are two older sons, one who has gone to sea, and 
 another who has just sailed for France to finish his edu 
 cation. It is quite funny to think that we must have 
 passed him on the ocean, for he sailed in the Camille, 
 and there was a little girl on board named Anna. Do 
 you remember the little bird we caught with the name of 
 Anna around his neck \ 
 
 Mme. de la Gaze is very kind, and still handsome ; but 
 she frightens me a little, as she is quite grave, and I feel 
 more at ease with M. Adrien. The house is not large, and is 
 very simple. I was afraid when I saw the bedrooms that 
 we were crowding them too much ; but Marie told me I 
 must not think so, for they were accustomed to have friends 
 with them, and always managed to accommodate them. 
 
 We enjoyed our first day at Badamier very much ; but 
 indeed we have found every day pleasant. We walked in 
 the avenue ; where we were protected from the sun by huge 
 trees, at which it was a pleasure to look. When the sun 
 had gone down, Marie invited me to come and look at " our 
 friend the sea " 
 
 Oh, how magnificent it was ! It was very calm, but 
 the roar of the waves, as they broke on the pebbles and 
 rolled down again, was like a continual beautiful song. 
 One thing, too, is so very pretty, that is, the green shores,
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOTJKBON. 237 
 
 for the pebbles are covered with creeping vines having little 
 bell-shaped flowers, which I am sure would delight Berthe. 
 
 Monday, December 27th. 
 
 Stephanie and I were made very happy yesterday by 
 such a nice letter from Mademoiselle, with two lines from 
 mamma, and Berthe's love in very big letters at the end. 
 I showed it all to Marie, who enjoyed it with ns. 
 
 Mine, de la Gaze was so kind to Stephanie yesterday on 
 account of her sore throat. (As it is now quite well mam 
 ma will not be worried.) Mme. de la Caze looked in 
 Stephanie's throat at once, to be sure that it was not 
 white, for it seems they have a terrible disease of the 
 throat in Bourbon which kills many children. But 
 Stephanie's was not bad at all, so she only had to drink a 
 little lemonade, which I tasted too, and found very nice. 
 
 1 think that Stephanie took cold last evening on the 
 shore, where we were walking without anything on our 
 heads. The strong breeze was very refreshing after the 
 warm day, but we are not quite accustomed to it. 
 
 This morning Marie and I have been rambling in the 
 great avenue, while the others were amusing themselves 
 in different ways. How I wished for you all to be here! 
 
 There is a stream which runs all along on one side of 
 the avenue, and separates it from the coffee-plantation, and 
 on the edge of which we sat down every now and then to 
 enjoy the songs of the birds. They were singing all about 
 us, and with the sound of the running water as an ac 
 companiment they made delightful music. The real coun 
 try is so much more delightfu Ithan all the fine gardens 
 of the Tuileries and Chaips-Elysees. 
 
 Marie asked me if I would like to go into the coffee- 
 plantation, to which I quickly said " Yes ; " so she told me 
 to walk behind her, so as to avoid the wasps' nests, as she
 
 238 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 knew where to look for them. Suddenly I perceived the 
 most beautiful red bird, which Marie told me was a car 
 dinal. I can hardly tell you how brilliant his color was, 
 nor how beautifully he looked amongst the green leaves ! 
 
 While we were talking about the birds we forgot the 
 wasps, and we came directly under one of their nests with 
 out noticing it. I shall never forget how frightened I was 
 when I saw Marie's straw hat covered with the ugly yellow 
 creatures. Marie cried out : " Bend down as much as you 
 can and follow me, but do not be frightened." I was 
 frightened, however, and Marie laughed at me well when 
 she saw how pale I was. 
 
 Presently we came to a cross-path, which Marie took, and 
 soon brought me to a little garden-patch, filled with differ 
 ent vegetables, and on one side a low hut. 
 
 " Here is where the keeper of the coffee-plantation lives," 
 said Marie, " and we will pay him a visit if you like." 
 
 " Yes, indeed," I answered, " I would like it very much." 
 
 " But it may shock you to see him, Marguerite, although 
 he is one of my proteges." 
 
 " Why, Marie ? " 
 
 " He has a horrible disease. He is a leper." Oh, how 
 startled I was, and as I said nothing, Marie said : 
 
 " No, do not come in if you dislike seeing him ; I will 
 just run in and see how he is." 
 
 But when I saw how brave Marie was, 1 felt ashamed of 
 my horror, and said I would go with her. 
 
 We found poor Barabbe crouching on a mat, and appa 
 rently very cold, for he was shivering and trying to light a 
 fire with a few sticks. But he did not seem able to do 
 anything, and I could see that his hands were quite white, 
 and his feet too, and horrible, as if partly eaten away. It 
 made nie shudder, and I did not dare go near him. But
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOUKBON. 239 
 
 Marie bent down, gathered the wood together, and soon 
 had a nice little fire. Then she said : 
 
 " Well, Barabbe, what are we to cook to-day ? " I cannot 
 repeat his words, for he talks so strangely, even worse than 
 Babet. (Oh, I have quite forgotten to tell you how delighted 
 Babet was to see us again. She waits on us so nicely, 
 and was charmed with the dress \ve brought her.) Barabbe 
 showed Marie the saucepan of rice, and she laid some flat 
 stones in the fire, and putting the saucepan on them it was 
 soon bubbling and steaming. Marie told him that I was 
 a friend of hers, and he smiled and showed his white teeth, 
 and indeed seemed quite gay before the warm fire. 
 
 He talked a good deal to me, and told me how they had 
 put him there to keep him away from the other negroes ; 
 that M. and Mine, de la Gaze were very kind to him, but 
 that he felt very lonely and banished until Marie came. 
 Now he looked for her visits as his only happiness, and 
 since Marie had told him about God, and had taught him to 
 pray, he was never so lonely. Is it not beautiful in Marie ? 
 
 Before we came away Marie and I swept out the little 
 hut, put the few, very few things in order, and cut him a 
 bunch of vegetables that he might cook. He said good- 
 by to us very pleasantly, and Marie said she could see that 
 he was pleased by my visit. 
 
 Tuesday, December 2Sth. 
 
 I cannot write a great deal to-day, for we are going out 
 after breakfast, and I have not much time. Last evening 
 we took a long walk by moonlight, which was delightful. 
 We w T ent to see a friend of M. de~la Gaze, who has a sugar- 
 plantation. The negroes were still at work, for they have 
 not enough hands at present. 
 
 The gentleman and his brother-in-law walked home with 
 us, and I was much interested to hear them talking politics.
 
 MAKGUEEITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 I did not know how much I loved my own country until I 
 came away from France ; but how very French the Creoles 
 are! 
 
 We sat on the veranda some time after our walk, for it 
 was so beautiful we -could not bear to go to bed. Sud 
 denly, while I was talking to Marie, I saw such a queer 
 creature, lookinglike an enormous spider, but with a white 
 shell on its back. 
 
 " Oh, that is a crab," said Marie ; " they often come up 
 here. Why, the other day I found one on the top of my 
 mosquito frame." This did not make me feel any easier ; but 
 Marie assured me they were harmless, unless I put my finger 
 into its claw, and then it would rather be killed than let it 
 go; but I told her I had no desire to try the experiment. 
 
 It is really terrible the number of creatures that they have 
 here ! The mosquitoes nearly devour Stephanie and me, for 
 they tell us they prefer European blood. Then there are 
 so many lizards, which are harmless, and very pretty too. 
 Yesterday little Helena brought us some lizards' eggs. 
 You cannot imagine how pretty they are, exactly like a 
 hen's egg, only so very small, not larger than the end of 
 my little finger. Stephanie has put them in a box with cot 
 ton, and hopes to hatch them, which would be very funny. 
 When we are walking we often see blue or green lizards 
 running over the stones or sleeping in the sun. 
 
 But we are to go and spend the day with Mme. Dumont, 
 and I hear Babet calling us now. 
 
 Wednesday, December 29th. 
 
 Before I say anything of our visit yesterday, I must 
 tell what has really troubled me. M. de la Gaze has very 
 kindly insisted upon keeping us a' few days longer, as he 
 says the country air has already made both Stephanie and 
 myself look so much better. It is very pleasant here, and
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 241 
 
 every one is very kind to us, but I wanted to be with 
 mamma on New- Year's Day, for it will be so lonely for 
 her without papa, or Gustave, or dear baby. But mamma 
 has written to say we may stay, and must try to get strong 
 and rosy, so I will try to be contented. 
 
 We passed the afternoon at Mme. Dumont's yesterday, 
 and a most beautiful place it is ! Mme. de la Gaze did not 
 go with us, so M. Adrien took us all in a large carriage, 
 drawn by mules, which seemed very strong and gentle. 
 
 When \ve entered the long avenue leading up to the 
 house, I cried out with delight, for it was like visiting 
 one of the chateaux in France. The house is immense, 
 with four avenues leading to it of the most beautiful trees 
 I ever saw, finer than any I have seen in France. 
 
 The gardens around the house were bright with all 
 kinds of flowers, roses, heliotrope, forget-me-not, and many 
 more I cannot name. The hedges were of Bengal roses, 
 while the walls of the house were festooned with honey 
 suckle and jessamine. Then there were great clumps of 
 pomegranate-trees, with their splendid red blossoms in the 
 midst of glossy leaves. But what I admired more than all 
 were some pretty trees, with light, delicate foliage, which 
 were covered with magnificent flowers of so brilliant a red 
 that they looked like fire. They call them " flame-trees." 
 
 I saw, too, the vanilla vine, which climbs up the trees, 
 covering their trunks with a thick foliage. It is from the 
 pod that they get the flavor we all like so much. It takes 
 a year to prepare it, as it has to be -picked and very care 
 fully dried. But I might write a great deal more without 
 saying a word of Mme. Dumont and her friends. 
 
 Both Stephanie and I were really frightened when we 
 reached the house and saw the veranda full of people. 
 
 Mine. Dumont had invited a number of guests to pasa 
 11
 
 242 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 New- Year's Day, and they embarrassed us terribly by 
 looking at us and making remarks about us, although 
 what they said was very kind. 
 
 Mme. Dumont welcomed us very kindly, and asked after 
 you. She seemed very glad to hear that you found her 
 house so comfortable and pleasant. After talking to Mme. 
 Dumont a little while, I found that poor Stephanie was 
 still clinging to my arm and looking so shy and miserable 
 that I felt sorry for her, especially as I did not feel very 
 brave myself. So I made a sign to Marie, who asked 
 Mme. Dumont if we might go and take off our hats. 
 One of her nieces, who was very shy, went with us, and 
 never spoke to us. In the bedroom the negresses looked 
 at us with the greatest curiosity, saying : " Oh, you are come 
 from France, little Miss." They all seem to think it is so 
 strange that we should be so red and white. 
 
 After lunch we went into the parlor, as the sun was still 
 so very warm, and then I think my dear mamma would 
 have been sorry for her poor Marguerite ! All the guests of 
 Mme. Dumont sat around and looked at me, while one of 
 the gentlemen askecl me all sorts of questions about France 
 and our voyage. I was so embarrassed I could hardly 
 speak, and when they laughed at anything I said which 
 seemed at all funny, I thought they were making sport of 
 me. I was so glad when we all went out under the trees. 
 
 Hew wild the children were ! No one seemed able to 
 control them. They ran back and forth, screaming, and 
 often quarrelling and crying. They were very shy, too, 
 and would not come near us, although they looked so 
 prettily in their white or pink dresses with short sleeves 
 and long curls that I longed to kiss them. 
 
 Stephanie was quite oppressed by the noise they made, 
 and Jeanne whispered to me:
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 243 
 
 " What do yon think Mile. Valmy would say ? " 
 
 The young mammas, however, seemed very quiet and 
 ladylike, and I suppose they were all brought np in the 
 same way. Marie says that the Creoles are very fond of 
 their children, but they cannot take the trouble to train 
 them carefully. Sometimes it does them no harm to be 
 so untamed, but again it does not answer so well. 
 
 But if the children are wild and shy, they are very kind, 
 for they took a great deal of trouble to amuse us. They 
 brought us all sorts of fruit to taste, and the little boys 
 climbed the trees to pick it, as if they were cats. Even 
 some of the little girls know how to climb, which surprised 
 me very much. 
 
 We walked for a little while along the banks of the 
 river Saint Jean, and the little boys brought me a quantity 
 of delicious raspberries, which grow on the edge of the 
 water. Sometimes they would even wade into the river 
 to get the berries, and caught quite a number of shrimp 
 too, which made a n*ice dish for dinner. 
 
 What a long dinner table we had ! We had all sorts of 
 nice dishes,- but I had already eaten so much fruit that I had 
 very little appetite. They gave me rice, too, instead of 
 bread, which all the Creoles use in that way ; but I cannot 
 get used to it, and the children seemed much amused to 
 see me puzzled what to do with it. 
 
 Poor Stephanie bit into a pepper-corn, which hurt her 
 so much that she burst out crying, and could hardly be com 
 forted. The butler came with a hot coal, which he wanted 
 to hold to her mouth to draw out the pain; but this fright 
 ened Stephanie still more, and she would not let him come 
 near her. I felt really ashamed of making such a com 
 motion. 
 
 After dinner we sat outide, while some of the young
 
 244 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 ladies played on the piano and sang duets and choruses. 
 It was delightful to sit listening to the music, in the beauti 
 ful moonlight. It was quite late when we came away, 
 and I certainly enjoyed the day very much. 
 
 Friday, December 31st. 
 
 "We went yesterday afternoon to visit a f rierid of Mine, 
 de la Gaze, who has a charming place and some nice 
 children. I saw a great many things which interested 
 me, but one most of all. 
 
 In a field quite away from the house I saw some bushes 
 which looked as if covered with snow (listen, Berthe), and 
 I called to Jeanne, who was near me : " Oh, what is that ? " 
 
 Jeanne laughed and replied :-" Cotton." 
 
 I thought they were making fun of me, but Marie told 
 me to come and look at it, and I saw it was indeed cotton. 
 It looked so prettily, bursting out of its large pods. The 
 children were much amused at my surprise, and gave me 
 a quantity of the cotton, which Berthe shall have to make 
 a pillow for her doll. 
 
 I Then I saw the cinnamon-trees, cocoa-trees,-from which 
 chocolate is made, bread-fruit trees, of which the fruit is 
 jvery nice cooked like fried potatoes. There were date 
 and sago trees so large and beautiful that it was a pleasure, 
 only to look at them. 
 
 I enjoyed the visit very much, for I soon " made friends" 
 with the daughters of Mme. Alaire ; but Stephanie is so 
 terribly shy. She never leaves my side, and never speaks 
 a word. I wish dear Mademoiselle could teach, her to 
 be less timid. She is afraid, too, of being left alone in 
 the dark, and I quite scolded her the other night because 
 she cried when I went out of the bedroom for a moment. 
 I told her she could not really believe in God if she was
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 245 
 
 so afraid to be alone, for He was everywhere and would 
 take care of her. Marie said the same, only more gently 
 than I did, and Stephanie promised not to cry again when 
 she felt afraid ; but I told her that was not enough, she 
 must not e\en.feel afraid. 
 
 Saturday, January 1st, 18 . 
 
 And I have Begun this new year away from mamma, 
 from my two mothers ! Far from papa, too, and Gustave 
 and Berthe, and our dear little angel in heaven ! And last 
 year we were all together. What a difference ! 
 
 But I will not think too much of these things. I have 
 already promised God to try to be more gentle, and reason 
 able this year, and I have asked for His help. This is 
 to be the year of my "first communion!" What a hap 
 piness ! 
 
 Last evening both Stephanie and I felt very sad, and I 
 saw that she had tears in her eyes at bedtime. When I 
 asked her what was the matter, she said : 
 
 " Oh, Marguerite, do you believe mamma is thinking of 
 
 118?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; did she not write that she would do so ? " 
 
 " Yes, to be sure ; but it is very sad not to be able to give 
 her a kiss to-morrow ! " And I agreed with her heartily. 
 
 We all four said our prayers together, and then each 
 one had a prayer to say apart, asking God for His special 
 help and for pardon for our particular sins. 
 
 We all kissed each other more affectionately than usual, 
 for Xew- Year's Day, and you can tell how much we 
 thought of you and Mademoiselle. 
 
 The children all went to wish M. and Mme. de la Gaze " a 
 happy New Year," and they were very kind to us too. I 
 have been writing' my journal early, because I want to see
 
 246 MAKGUEEITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 the grand distribution of jfresents to the negroes, which 
 takes place by and by. 
 
 Sunday, January 2d. 
 
 To-day we were all able to go to Mass, as we had two 
 carriages, and Marianne went on horseback, which gave 
 Stephanie a place. It is quite a journey from Badamier 
 to the church at Saint Andre, but I was so glad to go. 
 There were a great many people there, but the church is 
 very plain and simple; still I like it very much. Most of 
 the ladies wore large black or white vails instead of bon 
 nets. 
 
 As we came out of church I heard some of them say 
 ing : " Oh, those are the little Parisians ; how pretty they 
 are ! " which made me feel awkwardly again. 
 
 I must not forget to tell that M. and Mme. de la Gaze 
 were so kind as to give us each a present, as if we had 
 been daughters or nieces. They gave us such pretty gold 
 lockets ; in mine was Marie's hair, and in Stephanie's a 
 ]ock of Jeanne's. It was such a beautiful present, and a 
 surprise too ! 
 
 We passed our day very pleasantly. After breakfast 
 Mme. de la 'Gaze, Marianne, and Marie arranged the pack 
 ages for the negroes on a large table, and in a little while 
 the whole band arrived. The men had jackets or panta 
 loons of blue stuff given them, and the women dresses or un 
 derclothes, or colored handkerchiefs for the head. They 
 all seemed greatly pleased with their presents, laughing and 
 wishing every one " a happy Xew Year." I was surj . Jsea 
 to hear them wish Marianne and^Marie " a good husband ! " 
 
 It is very funny to see all these different negroes and 
 negresses. At first they all looked alike to me, and I 
 could hardly recognize any of them. Now, however, I can 
 tel] the Caffres by their great flat and very black faces,
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 247 
 
 while the Malays are yellow, with soft, silky hair. Mme. 
 de la Gaze has a young Malay girl for a chamber-maid, 
 who is very jretty in spite of the great holes cut in her* 
 ears, the fashion in her country. The Yambaues are the 
 finest and handsomest of all the blacks, and the women 
 are really beautiful. 
 
 The Malabars are from India, and are free. They look> 
 so well dressed in white cotton, which is draped around 
 them quite gracefully. When they make any money, they 
 put it all into bracelets, which they wear with much pride. 
 
 M. and Mme. de la Caze are both very good and kind 
 to their slaves, but I do not think I should like to own 
 them myself. 
 
 Monday, January 3d. 
 
 In the afternoon of New Year's Day, the blacks had 
 made arrangements for a grand ball. I do not know what 
 Berthe would have said to it if she had been here. I think 
 the noise would have frightened her. It was certainly a 
 curious scene. 
 
 M. de la Caze gave them some meat for their dinner, 
 and a cask of wine, which they placed in the great avenue, 
 which was given up to them. At first we looked at the 
 dancing from the windows, but afterwards M. and Mme. 
 de la Caze went down to the avenue, in order to please the 
 negroes, and we went with them. Both Stephanie and 
 I felt a little frightened, and kept very close to the side of 
 Mme. de la Caze. 
 
 There was one great, strong negro in particular at whom 
 1 could hardly bear to look. He had a sort of diadem on 
 his head, made of feathers, and held a large horse-tail in 
 his hand, which he flourished in all direction^. He seemed 
 to be king of the ball, but he was horrible, with his great
 
 24:8 MARGUERITE AT BOUKBON. 
 
 rolling eyes and white teeth, as he went jumping and leap 
 ing amongst the dancers. 
 
 We did not stay very long, for some of the blacks soon 
 became tipsy, but the ball lasted into the night. 
 
 We passed a very pleasant evening ourselves, playing" 
 cards and amusing ourselves, but I wished for my dear 
 mamma, Mademoiselle and Berthe. 
 
 We have been taking a delightful walk this morning, 
 and came home with our hands full of beautiful wild 
 flowers. 
 
 Tuesday, January <itk. 
 
 Marie received such a strange present yesterday from 
 her uncle ! M. de la Gaze had already given her, as well as 
 Jeanne, a very pretty shawl, but he added something else, 
 and you would never guess what it was, my dear Berthe. 
 
 We had been making a visit to old Barabbe, when, as 
 we came into the house, we met M. de la Gaze, who said to 
 Marie : 
 
 " My child, I want to make you- a present which I feel 
 sure you will value. Our young negress Evelyna has just 
 had a little girl born, and I give it to you." 
 
 " Oh, uncle," said Marie, " you are very good, but " and 
 she hesitated. 
 
 " What is it, my child ?" said M. Adrien. 
 
 " I do not dare to tell you ! " 
 
 " Why not ? Pray, speak, my child." 
 
 " Well, uncle, I had resolved never to own slaves." 
 
 " Oh, is that all ? Well, since this child is yours, can you 
 not give her her liberty by-and-by ? " 
 
 " Oh, if you will permit that, Uncle Adrien, I will gladly 
 accept your present." 
 
 Marie kissed her uncle, who only asked her not to say 
 anything to Evelyna at present about liberating the little
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 249 
 
 girl. And then we all ran away to look at the baby. 
 Evelyna seemed very much pleased to hear that Marie was 
 to own the baby, but begged her, that she would never 
 take her child away from her. As you may be sure, Marie 
 promised most earnestly never to do so, and Evelyna 
 thanked her with tears in her eyes. 
 
 After we came away, Marie talked a great deal about 
 the little girl, and asked me if I had any objection to have 
 it called Marguerite. I replied that I should be very glad 
 to have it named after me, so it will soon be baptized. 
 
 I must tell you a litte about Mane's plan for Barabbe, 
 although it is so warm that I can hardlv write. She has 
 
 O / 
 
 been troubled lest the poor man should feel neglected after 
 we went away, so, after some hesitation, she decided to ask 
 Helena to look after Barabbe, for although she is very 
 young, she is very warm-hearted. 
 
 "We took Helena to see Barabbe, and she behaved very 
 sweetly to him, talking to him much more easily than to 
 either Marie or myself. As we came home, Marie explained 
 to her what she would like her to do for Barabbe, and He 
 lena seemed greatly pleased and very proud to be trusted 
 with the care of him. She promises Marie to get her 
 nurse to take her to see Barabbe every day after we are 
 gone. 
 
 Wednesday, January 5t7i. 
 
 I was very unkind to Stephanie this morning, and I 
 feel truly ashamed of myself. I lost my temper because 
 she would not wake quickly and get dressed, so that we 
 could run down to see the sun rise over the sea. I spoke 
 very crossly to her, and then, when I helped her to tie 
 her bonnet-strings, I was rough and pulled her hair. This 
 made her cry, which provoked me still more, and I am 
 11*
 
 250 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 afraid we should have had a quarrel, if Marie had not 
 spoken to me softly, which checked me. 
 
 As we walked off together, I felt very sorry, so that I 
 could not be easy until I had whispered to Stephanie, asking 
 her to forgive me. She did so directly, and looked at me 
 so sweetly with her great eyes that I could not help kissing 
 her. 
 
 How beautifully the sun looked as it seemed to come 
 up out of the sea. Its rays sparkled over the waves and 
 up into the heavens, which were covered with lovely pink 
 and lilac clouds, while the sea was so calm, and the air so 
 fresh ! 
 
 We went afterwards to the negro-quarter to ask after 
 Marie's little girl, and I was much interested in looking at 
 it. It is like a little town, for every family has its own 
 house, with a garden, in which grow tobacco, pepper, and 
 even flowers, while the paths leading from one house to 
 the other look like streets. We went into some of the 
 cabins, which were poor, but very clean.. Helena has been 
 several times to see Barabbe, who seems very friendly with 
 her. M. and Mine, de la Gaze also seem pleased to have 
 her go, provided she always has her nurse with her. ' 
 
 Thursday, January 6th. 
 
 It is decided when we shall return to Saint Denis. We 
 shall leave here on Saturday, and although I am very fond 
 of Champ-Borne and Badamier, how glad I shall be to see 
 dear mamma, Mademoiselle, and Berthe again ! I feel as 
 if the sight of their dear faces would make me jump for 
 
 joj ! 
 
 Yesterday my dear Marie gave me a terrible fright, but 
 1 feel a little consoled now, for I am sure she is mistaken. 
 We were taking a walk before dinner along the shore, and
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 251 
 
 the sea was so beautiful with the setting sun that we felt 
 as if we could never look at it enough. 
 
 Marie told me that her uncle had promised to let her 
 stop at the cemetery of Saint Suzanne, in order to visit her 
 father's grave, and she added that she hoped I would like 
 to go with her. I replied " Yes " at once, and then Marie 
 said something which gave me such a shock and such 
 pain ! 
 
 " When you are there, Marguerite," she said, " you will 
 see the place where I shall probably be laid some day.' ' 
 
 " Oh, Marie," I cried, "you grieve me ! " 
 
 " Not at all," she said ; " on the contrary, we ought to 
 think of the grave as a friend. Think how sweetly we 
 shall sleep there, and awake thennever to die again ! " But 
 I could not bear to hear her speak so, and although we 
 talked for a long time, and Marie said many beautiful tilings, 
 and so earnestly that I saw she felt it all, I could not be 
 convinced that death was not very, very sad and terrible. 
 
 At last she said to me : 
 
 " Marguerite, I must tell you something which I am 
 afraid will make you unhappy, and yet I feel as if I ought 
 not to hide it from you any longer." 
 
 " Oh, Marie, what is -it ? " 
 
 " Will you be courageous, Marguerite ? I shall pain you, 
 my sister." 
 
 " Tell me quickly, Marie ; I cannot wait." 
 
 Marie hesitated, but her face was lighted up by such a 
 lovelv smile that she looked more like an an;el than ever, 
 
 / O ' 
 
 and I could only gaze at her, not daring to say a word. 
 
 " Yes, Marguerite, I will tell you, but you must listen like 
 a Christian. Well, I have the presentiment, no, almost the 
 certainty, that God will call -me to Him very soon" 
 
 I gave a great cry, and, catching Marie by the arm, I
 
 252 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 turned so pale that she was frightened, and thought I was 
 going to faint. She put her arms around me, and led me 
 away where we could sit down under some bushes with 
 our faces turned to the sea. 
 
 " Oh, Marie," I cried, looking into her face, " what makes 
 you believe such a cruel thing ? You are not ill, and you 
 are not a prophet to know when you are to die." 
 
 Marie smiled gently, and replied, putting her hand on 
 her heart : 
 
 " This tells me. I am afraid to understand it, and yet 
 I ask it." 
 
 " But what does it say, Marie ? " 
 
 " I think I have disease of the heart." 
 
 " Oh, Marie, do not say so," I cried ; and then my sobs and 
 tears were so violent that Marie could only kiss me and 
 try to comfort me, while I felt as if my heart must break. 
 What should I do without Marie, my dearest friend and 
 Bister! It was too much. 
 
 At last I was a little more quiet, and then I begged her 
 to tell me why she thought she had any trouble with her 
 heart. She said her mother had believed it, and had con 
 sulted physicians for her as well as for herself. 
 
 " But, Marie, was it disease of the heart which caused 
 your mother's death ? " 
 
 " Yes, Marguerite ; and she lost a sister by the same dis 
 ease. The physicians hoped the sea- voyage would cure 
 my poor mother, but " and Marie stopped while the tears 
 filled her eyes. 
 
 Suddenly the thought came to me that it was because 
 Marie had seen her mother die of this disease that she fan 
 cied her heart was wrong. I mentioned this to her at once, 
 and she said her Uncle Adrieu thought so too, and indeed 
 several physicians had told her that ti.ere was no trouble
 
 MAEGUEEITE AT BOURBON. 253 
 
 with her heart. This comforted me so much that I began 
 to laugh and cry at once, and Marie could only say we 
 would not talk any more about it until I was more calm, 
 " and Christian," as she added with a smile. 
 
 You will see my journal, dear mamma and Mademoiselle ; 
 and Marie says she has no secrets from you This conver 
 sation will make you unhappy at first, but I am sure you 
 will think as I do, that Marie is mistaken. 
 
 I have written such a long journal, because we have a 
 rainy day, and cannot go out. 
 
 Friday, January 1th. 
 
 How fast the rain is falling ! It is almost like a second 
 Deluge, but Marie and I have some pleasant books, so we 
 can amuse ourselves nicely in-doors. 
 
 I find that I do not agree with Marianne about books, for 
 she says she always turns over the page when she finds any 
 thing moral in a book. I used to do so when I was younger, 
 but Mademoiselle has tauo-ht me so differently, and now both 
 
 O f v ' 
 
 Marie and I are very fond of reading books which tell us 
 of God and His great goodness and mercy. 
 
 I tried to renew my conversation of yesterday with 
 Marie, but she was unwilling to continue the subject, and 
 indeed I was only too glad to forget it. 
 
 I only hope this bad weather will not prevent us from 
 starting to-morrow, for I shall be so disappointed ! I think 
 mamma would be a little anxious, as she is expecting us. 
 
 By-and-by Marie and I will put on our thick shoes, and 
 go to say Good-by to Barabbe and Evelyna. B.ubet is de 
 lighted at the idea of going with us to Saint Denis. 
 
 I think M. and Mrne. de la Gaze feel badly to think how 
 soon we shall all be gone. The house will indeed seem 
 dull enough, for Marianne returns to school now also, 
 and they are very fond of their nieces, especially Marie
 
 254: MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 To-day we had news from France through the papers, 
 but no letters came for any of us. Marie and I both long 
 to hear from Alberic and Gustave. 
 
 To-morrow I shall really see my dear little mother ! 
 
 Sunday, January 16th SAINT DENIS. 
 
 I am writing iny journal at last beside dear mamma and 
 Mademoiselle, but it has seemed as if I never should be 
 near them again. Instead of reacliing here when we ex 
 pected, we were detained a week, and all on account of 
 those terrible rains. 
 
 We had quite an adventure when we first left Badamier, 
 and were all pretty well frightened. M. de la Gaze thought 
 we could cross the river, although it was much swollen, 
 because we had a strong carriage and a good pair of mules. 
 We all felt very timid, except Marianne, who urged her 
 father to try the crossing, even if it was a little difficult. 
 
 We crossed the first arm of the river without much 
 trouble, although it seemed terribly rapid and angry to ine, 
 but when we reached the second arm, where the water was 
 dashing in a furious current, rolling with it large stones 
 and branches of trees, M. de la Gaze hesitated, and Phanor, 
 the coachman, said he did not care to risk the crossing. 
 So M. de la Gaze told him to go back at once, for, as the 
 water was rising all the time, there was no time to lose. 
 Stephanie and Jeanne began to cry, and even Marianne 
 hid her face and trembled. 
 
 The first .arm was much more swollen when we came 
 back to it, and just as we reached the middle of the stream 
 the mules stopped, and Phanor could not make them move. 
 I thought we must certainly be drowned, and suddenly 
 Phanor gave a loud shout, which frightened us horribly, 
 but he was only calling to some negroes, who were on the
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 255 
 
 river-bank. These good blacks joined hands and came 
 wading out to us, singing merrily, although the water was 
 dashing around them. Some took hold of the mules, and 
 some lifted the wheels of the carriage, so that in a little 
 while we were safely landed on the bank. What an ear 
 nest "Thank God" we all said, and how grateful we felt 
 to the brave negroes who had come to help us ! M. de la 
 Caze gave them money, and we girls all thanked them, 
 which seemed to please and amuse them greatly. 
 
 Monday, January \lth. 
 
 I did not finish my story yesterday, for I found it would 
 keep me too long from my dear mamma, and now that I 
 have her once more, I cannot kiss and caress her enough. 
 She seems anxious too to have us with her all the time now, 
 and although she is still very sad, I can see that she is 
 amused by what we have to tell her. What a happiness 
 it will be for papa when mamma is really well again ! 
 
 But I must finish my story. After we were a little 
 more calm after our fright, M. de la Caze ordered the 
 coachman to go back, but said we would stop and pay 
 Mine. Dumont a visit on our way. 
 
 Mine. Dumont was delighted to see us, and said that as 
 we had said Good-by to Badamier, and could not reach 
 mamma, she should keep us at Quartier-Frai^ais. I felt 
 very timid indeed at first, but Mine. Dumont and her friends 
 were so kind that we soon felt more at ease. M. de la 
 Caze went off on horseback to tell his wife where we were, 
 and he also sent a messenger to mamma over the higher 
 ground to let her know why we were delayed. 
 
 How kind and hospitable the Creoles are ! They make 
 you so heartily welcome, and seem so glad to have you mi-
 
 256 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 der their roof, that one cannot but be contented. How 1 
 wish mamma could see more of them ! 
 
 I was very. much amused while we were at Reunion, the 
 name of Mine. Dumont's place, in watching them make the 
 sugar. What a lively scene it was ! The blacks were go 
 ing back and forth, the machines turned, the mill crushed 
 the canes, the great vats grew full, and you saw the sugar 
 made, as it were, under your very eyes. First it is sugar 
 and water, then sirup, and at last sugar, which is put in the 
 sun to dry, and afterwards packed in bags, which go to 
 France to be sold. 
 
 The great cart-loads of yellow canes are so pretty, and 
 so is the great heap in which it is piled until used. Sugar 
 cane is very nice to eat too, and so is the sirup, only you 
 must not take it too warm. We had a great laugh at 
 Maurice, a little nephew of Mme. Dumoiit, who had a 
 piece of bread to dip in the sirup. By mistake he went to 
 a vat where the sirup was boiling and dipped in his bread. 
 He shrieked with pain, for his fingers were quite badly 
 scalded, but he would not give up the bread, all covered 
 with nice sugar, although every one called out " Drop it, 
 Maurice, drop it." 
 
 We had a great deal of fun too with the sugar, for we 
 children used to pick out some of the large lumps, when 
 they were dried, and then, making a little fire of sticks, we 
 boiled our sirup, into which we stirred the fresh raspberries 
 we picked on the river-bank, which made a delightful 
 drink. 
 
 1 enjoyed wading in the river too, for we used to take 
 oft our shoes and stockings, and, as the water was low in 
 certain places, we could run about and catch the shrimp 
 as we pleased. 
 
 1 saw very little of Marie, for Mme. Dumoiit always
 
 MAKGUEKITE AT BOURBON. 257 
 
 had so much to say to her, so I had to play with the little 
 girls. I was not sorry when it was decided that the,roads 
 were safe, and we could start for Saint Denis. Oh, what 
 joy it w r as when we arrived, and I rushed into the enclos 
 ure of our house, to be clasped in dear Mademoiselle's 
 arms ! She had tears in her eyes too, as she said : " My 
 dearest child, so I have you once more ! " 
 
 To our surprise, too, we saw mamma coming quickly to 
 meet us, for when we left her she could hardly walk a few 
 steps. Oh, how sweet it was to feel her kisses once more, 
 and to see dear little Berthe, who hopped and skipped 
 around us in a transport of delight. I could only thank 
 God from my heart for bringing us all together a^ain. 
 
 *J O O O O 
 
 Friday, January 21st. 
 
 I went back yesterday to the catechism class, and I am 
 so happy, because now I am really preparing for my first 
 communion. I was afraid that all the interruptions I had 
 had would prevent me from being ready as soon as I hoped, 
 but Mademoiselle thinks that with extra industry I can 
 make up the lost time. 
 
 Both she and mamma think I had better make my first 
 communion before I leave Bourbon, even if it should keep 
 us here rather longer than we expected. I feel that this is 
 very good of mamma, for, of course, she is anxious to be 
 with papa as soon as possible. 
 
 I like 1' Abbe Morin, who teaches us very much, for he is 
 kind and indulgent, and indeed the other priests are very 
 nice, but 1 often think of 1'Abbe Martin in Paris, and wish 
 for him. 
 
 I have seen Adele again, and this time she spoke to me 
 pleasantly enough. I saw her when I ran to speak to 
 Sister Kosalie, by Mademoiselle's permission, as we came
 
 258 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 out of the church. How glad 1 was to hear about the 
 otlfer kind Sisters once more! They are scattered in dif 
 ferent parts of the island, some in the convents, and some 
 taking care of the sick in the hospitals. Sister .Rosalie 
 told me that Adele had become much more gentle and 
 polite, and she liked her very much. Mme. Bontems had 
 started a little shop, having brought out some stock for it, 
 and she hoped to do well. Mademoiselle asked for her 
 address, so that we could go to Mme. Bontems and buy 
 what we wanted. Adele can only remain with the Sisters 
 until after her first communion, for mother needs her help 
 very much. I feel sorry for Adele, for she cannot learn 
 a great deal in so short a time, and it would make me very 
 unhappy to leave my studies when I know so little. 
 
 Marie and I are beginning to work again regularly, 
 indeed we have all resumed our lessons with Mademoiselle. 
 Every day is very much alike ; we get up at six o'clock, 
 and as soon as we are dressed we all have prayers to 
 gether in mamma's room. Then we take a cup of coffee 
 before going into the enclosure to walk and amuse our 
 selves. At half -past eight we are all in the school-room, 
 when Mademoiselle first reads to us from the Gospels or 
 the Imitation before we begin our studies. Our first lesson 
 is dictation, then verbs and grammar. But what Marie and 
 I enjoy most of all is, repeating verses of poetry which we 
 have learned. Sometimes fables from La Fontaine, or 
 part of one of Racine's tragedies, or beautiful verses from 
 Lamartine. We both love poetry dearly, and often, when 
 we are walking together, we repeat to each other our 
 favorite verses. What a happiness it must be to be able 
 to write such beautiful verses, and feel that they are sure 
 to do good and give pleasure to others. 
 
 To-day is a sad anniversary, that of the death of poor
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 259 
 
 King Louis XYI. What a sad history it is ! How bit 
 terly the poor Queen Marie Antoinette must hare suffered, 
 and that dear Mine. Eliazbeth ! The French people showed 
 so much courage and energy during that terrible Revolu 
 tion, that it seems too sad that there should have been 
 such monsters among them to spoil everything. 
 
 Saturday, January 22d. 
 
 I have not yet finished the history of our day. At half- 
 past ten we have our breakfast, and then a recess until 
 half-past twelve. After that we begin our lessons again, 
 and while Mademoiselle teaches me music, Marie takes 
 charge of the little ones, for she tries to help Mademoiselle 
 as much as possible. Marie has had to give up music her 
 self, as it fatigued her too much to practice, but she helps 
 Jeanne with her exercises, and I teach Stephanie a little. 
 I find it tries my patience very much when Stephanie 
 plays the wrong note, but I try to remember how kind 
 Mademoiselle has always been to me. 
 
 At half-past two we have our lunch, then Mademoiselle 
 reads to us from the History of France, 'explaining any 
 thing that we do not understand so clearly and pleasantly 
 that I am always sorry when the reading is over. 
 
 After this Mademoiselle corrects our abstract of the day 
 .before, and gives us a new one to write. Then comes 
 algebra and geography, alternate days, as our problems and 
 maps take some time to draw. Then we write a sort of 
 confposition. Sometimes I write in my Journal, when I 
 have a great deal to tell. And then, if we have a little 
 time before going to dress for the six o'clock dinner, 
 Mademoiselle reads to us, and sometimes mamma even 
 comes in to take her place, since poor Mademoiselle is often 
 very tired.
 
 260 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 After dinner we walk about in the enclosure, or sit on 
 the veranda until nine o'clock, when the children go to 
 bed. We often have visitors in the evening, for the Creoles 
 dislike being out in the hot sun, and they know, too, that we 
 are all very busy with our studies in the daytime. Mine. 
 Vintimil and several others come quite often to see 
 mamma, for whom every one seems to feel sorry. 
 
 I have forgotten to say that the Governor and his wife 
 have been very kind and attentive to us. Berthe is always 
 charmed when she sees their carriage, with those pretty 
 little Malabars, dressed in white, with red sashes and tur 
 bans ; they call them the Governor's "pawns" It was 
 the Governor who sent us the excellent physician who took 
 care of mamma, and who has examined Marie since we 
 came from . Champ-Borne. He has given Marie some 
 pills, and says we need not be uneasy, which makes me 
 so happy and grateful to God. 
 
 Tuesday, March 8th. 
 
 Oh, What a happy'day we had yesterday, for at last we 
 received our letters from papa ! We had letters from 
 Gustave too, and it really seemed too much happiness at 
 once. The whole house was turned "upside down," and 
 every cue was too excited to do anything regularly. 
 Berthe was too funny, running up and down stairs to show 
 every one, even the servants, the dear little letter papa had 
 sent her, as he did each of us. I do not see why she did 
 not hurt -herself by falling, or why she did not lose her 
 letter. She was constantly dropping it, looking for it in 
 great distress, and when she found it, bursting into peals 
 of laughter and delight. Stephanie was very quiet, but 
 she held her letter very tightly, and once I saw her kiss it.
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOUKBON. 261 
 
 Papa wrote to mamma of his arrival in Pondicherry, and 
 described his reception, which was quite imposing and 
 very kind. He thinks we shall like the country very much, 
 but tells mamma he does not wish us to come on until I 
 have made my first communion, as I have had so many 
 interruptions. I3y that time, too, we shall be more accus 
 tomed to the great heat. Papa says he is quite well, and I 
 hope it is true, but I think he might tell a little fib to pre 
 vent us from being uneasy. 
 
 The letters which papa sends us from Gustave are very 
 sad; he cannot be consoled for our absence, although he 
 works hard to try and occupy himself. It breaks one's 
 heart to read the messages he sends for poor baby, whom 
 he loved so dearly. 
 
 Gustave gives us n6ws of Clara, who seems worse in 
 structed than ever. She no longer has a governess, and 
 Mine, de Baldi changes her masters every fortnight. M. 
 Guer, who knows Mine, de Baldi very well, has tried to re 
 monstrate with her about her management of Clara, but 
 she grows angry, and will not listen to him. 
 
 Gustave said he had met Cecile Dufon one day. She 
 vvas as smiling as ever, but the tears came in her eyes when 
 she asked if he had heard from me. 
 
 Gustave had already been once to the grave of Mademoi 
 selle's parents, and sent her a flower he had picked there 
 and pressed. Mademoiselle was very much touched by 
 his thoughtf ulness. We do not expect to have a reply to our 
 sad letters to poor Gustave before the end of May. How 
 long it seerns to wait ! 
 
 Papa speaks with much affection of the good priests 
 from whom he parted at Pondicherry. They sent us many 
 kind messages, as did also the captain and all the officers 
 of the Isere. Papa was good enough, too, to ask our old
 
 262 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 
 
 Mario and little Georget what word they wanted to send 
 us, and they gave him many respectful regards and mes 
 sages. The Isere was all in good order, and I wonder if I 
 shall ever see her again. I really feel fond of her, al 
 though we were all so terribly unhappy on board of her. 
 
 Wednesday, March Qth. 
 
 To-day is Stephanie's birthday, and she is eight years 
 old ! She is so quiet and sensible for her age, that she 
 really seems like a big girl. I have promised her that 
 after this I will try not to speak of her and Berthe as the 
 " little ones." I too am growing fast, so that my dresses 
 have to be lengthened. At the time of my first commun 
 ion they are to be made quite long, and we are to leave off 
 our mourning for dear baby at the, same time. I do not 
 think that mamma will ever give up a black dress. 
 
 Oh, how warm it was to-day as we came home after 
 Mass ! There is not a breath of air, for I have just been 
 looking at the trees, and not a leaf 'stirs. How I hate such 
 weather, and I feel afraid that something is going to hap 
 pen, for Janvier said at breakfast that he thought we were 
 going to have a tempest. 
 
 We were expecting Mine. Dumont to-day, but she will 
 hardly start in such heat. How very kind she is to us ! 
 She will not let mamma look out for another house, al 
 though we are staying so much longer than we thought at 
 first, nor will she let us hire her servants who wait on us. 
 She insists we are doing her a favor by employing them. 
 
 Stephanie has begun to-day to write a journal, but she 
 says she shall never have patience to write as much as I do, 
 and I think that will be better, my journal is so long. 
 
 Sunday, March 
 I have always said that a tempest on land would not
 
 MAKGUEKITE AT BOUKBON. 263 
 
 frighten me after what I had seen at sea. But I know 
 now that it can be terrible at land too, for we have had a 
 great fright. I only wonder that our house was not blown 
 away. 
 
 As I wrote on Wednesday the heat was terrible. It 
 made us all feel badly, and even when evening came it 
 was no cooler. Jeanne and I were walking on the piazza 
 after dinner, and Jeanne was telling me about all the hur 
 ricanes which she could remember, when we were startled 
 by hearing low moans in the enclosure next to ours. We 
 ran in -doors quickly, although the servants called to us 
 that it was only the dogs howling at the approach of a 
 storm. It made me very uncomfortable, and then the sky 
 had such a strange color like copper. 
 
 As we were going to mamma, who had sent for us, we 
 heard a carriage stop at our gate, and presently some one 
 knocked. Idala opened the gate, and there was Mme. Du- 
 mont ! She came with her coach laden with packages of 
 all kinds for our enjoyment, fruits, and nice things in 
 abundance. 
 
 When mamma welcomed Mine. Dumont and expressed 
 some surprise that she felt able to travel in such weather, 
 she replied that she thought, as we had never experienced 
 a hurricane before, she might be of some use to us. How 
 warmly mamma thanked her, and how thoughtful it was 
 for her to do such a thing ! 
 
 Mme. Dumont sent the servants out at once to lay in 
 provisions for several days, and then ordered all the doors 
 and windows to be barricaded. I could see that these were 
 serious preparations, but I did not feel afraid, for I was 
 really curious to see such a storm, as Jeanne had described. 
 Now I am ashamed of my selfishness, when I think of the 
 poor people who have lost their crops, some of them their
 
 264: MAEGUEEITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 houses and all they possessed! The vessels too on the 
 coast, for they had to warn them all to leave the harbor, 
 as they could not protect them. There are fifteen vessels 
 now absent, about which there is great anxiety. 
 
 On Wednesday evening M. Yintimil and M. Leo de 
 Yeilles carne in to see us and offer their assistance. They 
 were delighted to find Mine. Dumont with us, as she knew 
 so well what to do. They botli begged mamrna to send 
 for them at any hour if she needed them, and M. de Yeilles 
 said the same to Mademoiselle, as he bade her good-by. 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur," I cried, " you do not know Made 
 moiselle; she is never frightened as we are." 
 
 "On the contrary, I think I know her very well," re 
 plied M. Leo. " She is never alarmed for herself, for she 
 never thinks of herself, but she may be anxious for others, 
 of whose comfort she thinks constantly." 
 
 I like M. de Yeilles so much ; he is so fine looking, and 
 his history is interesting too, for he has remained a widow 
 er, although he was married only three years before his 
 wife died, and he looks so sad and dignified ! 
 
 We went to bed after the gentlemen had gone, and 
 although I. was very nervous, I must have fallen asleep, 
 for I was suddenly awakened in the middle of the night 
 by a great racket and a feeling of cold. The window had 
 flown open, and the tempest had really begun. 
 
 Marie came in at this moment, and I saw she was 
 dressed. She told me mamma and Mademoiselle were 
 awake, and they had all wondered that I had slept so long. 
 I wondered myself when I heard the noise of the storm. The 
 house trembled, and every moment it seemed as if doors and 
 windows must give way to the furious wind and rain. 
 Mine. Dumont came to tell us we need not be alarmed, 
 but we could not feel secure. As we were not willing to
 
 MAKGTJEKITE AT BOURBON. 265 
 
 go back to our rooms, Mme. Dumont advised us to bring 
 our mattresses and put them 011 the floor in mamma's room. 
 Indeed, she was kind enough to go with Mademoiselle to 
 help her move them. 
 
 Mme. Dumont herself had to beg hospitality at our hands, 
 as she could not stay in her own little room, where the 
 rain was coming in on all sides. Indeed, all the upper 
 rooms were wet, except mamma's, in which we all assem 
 bled. The poor negresses had to take refuge in our din 
 ing-room, for the wind had carried off the roof of their 
 cabin, and they had no shelter at all. 
 
 After a time Mme. Dnmont asked us to come out into a 
 sheltered corner of the veranda, in order to get a better idea 
 of the storm. I shall never forget the grand sight. The 
 poor trees seemed to be writhing in agony, as they tossed 
 and bent, first to one side, then to the other. Each gust, as 
 it came, carried off a quantity of leaves, which darkened the 
 air ; sometimes there would be a crash as a large branch 
 would go, and even now and then a whole tree would be 
 overturned. I could not help feeling sorry for them. The 
 wind seemed like a wild beast, which would rest for a few 
 moments (and this quiet was even more startling than the 
 tumult) and then come roaring back again to maim and de 
 stroy. Sometimes Jeanne and I had to cling to the sides of the 
 veranda to avoid being swept away or deluged with the 
 torrents of rain. Now and then the poor birds' nests were 
 tossed to the ground, scattering the eggs or the little ones 
 in all directions. Janvier brought us some of the young 
 birds, but I am afraid we cannot save them. 
 
 Monday, Marcli 14A. 
 
 The storm lasted all through the morning of Thursday, 
 until our enclosure looked like a battle-field, covered with 
 broken branches, crushed fruit, and all sorts of rubbish. 
 12
 
 266 MARGUERITE AT BOTTRBOtf. 
 
 But our neighbors suffered even more, for the roof of their 
 house was carried away, and as it had only one story, all 
 the rooms were exposed. The family had to take refuge 
 in the negro-cabin, where they were terribly crowded and 
 uncomfortable. 
 
 As soon as mamma heard of their condition, she was 
 very anxious to ask them under our roof, but when she 
 proposed it to Mme. Dumont she did not seem at all 
 pleased at the idea. Mamma looked astonished at her 
 nesitation, when Mme. Dumont, explained that they were 
 mulattoes, and as she had never had any intercourse with 
 Mme. Aiidre, she did not wish to begin now. She spoke 
 so decidedly that mamma could say no more, but 1 ex 
 claimed : 
 
 " "Well, at least we can send them umbrellas to protect 
 them ! " 
 
 Mme. Dumont did not look pleased, but Marie told me 
 to be quiet ; and, going over to her aunt, had a little talk, 
 and in a few moments Mme. Dumont consented to send 
 for Mme. Andre. The poor -lady and her children had 
 the greatest trouble in getting over to our house through 
 the storm, but she seemed very grateful for our protec 
 tion. 
 
 It seemed very funny to see the children, all of differ 
 ent colors, for some of them were quite fair, like the 
 mother, and others like the father, who was very dark. 
 There is a great prejudice against mulattoes in Bourbon. 
 Mme. Vintimil told -Mamma, the other day, that the mistress 
 of a school in Saint Denis had been obliged to refuse the 
 care of a little orphan girl, who was brought to her by the 
 child's uncle, tler^father had belonged to one of the best 
 families in Bourbon, but the mother was a mulatto ; and the 
 school-mistress found she should lose all her best scholars
 
 MAKGUEKITE AT BOUKBON. 267 
 
 if she took the little orphan. It seems to me a very un 
 just prejudice. 
 
 "When Mine. Andre left us in the evening, as her husband 
 had fimd a room where she could be sheltered, she thanked 
 both Mine. D union t and mamma very earnestly for the 
 kindness they had shown her. Mamma told her we should 
 be so very happy to see her after the storm was over, but 
 Mine. Dumont was as cold and stiff as ever. 
 
 The wind fell a little on Thursday evening, but came up 
 again in the night, and raged all day Friday with more fury 
 than ever. It did not seem as if the house could stand. 
 
 M. Yintimil and M. de Yeilles ventured to come to us 
 several times during those two days, although it was almost 
 dangerous to be out. They brought us sad stories of the 
 misfortunes which had happened houses torn down, a 
 bridge carried away with negroes upon it, all of whom 
 were drowned ; but saddest of all, a vessel, which could 
 not keep off the coast, was thrown on the rocks, crushed 
 into a wreck, and several sailors were lost. It made our 
 hearts ache to hear of it all. 
 
 The wind fell again on Friday evening, and on Saturday 
 it was so much more quiet that M. Yintimil and M. de 
 Yeilles came to ask us to go out and see the havoc the hurri 
 cane had made. Mamma declined going herself, saying 
 the sight would make her too sad, but she allowed me to 
 g;o, and Mademoiselle went too to take care of Jeanne 
 
 c~> ' 
 
 and Berthe,' who could not bear to stay at home. 
 
 I had been in the house so long that I was very glad to 
 get out, but what a sight it was! The king's garden, 
 where we went first, was utterly destroyed trees torn up, 
 the flower-beds ruined. The alleys were all choked with 
 branches, and the ground covered with a mass of fruit, 
 ripe and unripe, crushed and spoiled.
 
 263 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 In the town the streets could not be recognized, for the 
 trees were almost all destroyed, and many of the houses 
 were much injured. Over all was a thick carpet of 
 torn leaves. But on the harbor was the saddest sight of 
 all. The waves were still black and angry, and the empty 
 harbor, with no vessel to be seen save the poor wreck 
 lying on its side, with its masts buried in the sea, made 
 one's heart sink. I thought of the Isere, and how we, too, 
 might have been crushed on those cruel rocks ! 
 
 The gentlemen took us at last to a point where we 
 could see much of the devastation at once, but the houses 
 surrounded by water, the trees stripped of leaves and 
 branches, made so distressing a sight that we grew pale 
 and sick, and Mademoiselle said we had seen enough, so 
 we hurried home to describe it to Marie and Stephanie. 
 
 Tuesday, March 29 ill. 
 
 My dearest Marie is fourteen years old to-day, but 
 anyone would say she was fifteen, she is so tall and grave. 
 She is quite a young lady, but she is very kind to all of 
 us who are younger, and does not look down upon us at all. 
 
 Some of the vessels have returned since the storm, and 
 the gentlemen say it is a pitiable sight to see them, with 
 out masts or boats, as if they had come from a great 
 battle. Several of the ships were wrecked, some on the coast 
 of Madagascar and others on the Island of Mauritius. 
 
 o 
 
 One poor vessel foundered at sea, and the wind was so 
 violent that no one could go to the aid of the crew, so all 
 were lost. It was horrible to think of it! One young 
 lady was lost whom we had seen in Saint Denis. She 
 had gone witli her husband, because they thought there 
 was some danger, and both went down together. How it 
 made our tears fall to hear of these disasters!
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 269 
 
 Friday, April 8th. 
 
 Oh, these horrid centipedes, how terribly they bite ! I 
 know now how painful it is, for I have had quite an ad 
 venture. 
 
 One evening we had quite a number of visitors, and, 
 among others, Mine. Louis Yintimil, who had brought her 
 . little Ida to see us. She is a sweet little girl, and, while I 
 was playing with her, she coaxed me to sit doVn on the 
 floor of the veranda. I said no, for I was afraid of centi 
 pedes, but she repeated " Ida wants it, Ida wants it " 
 so cunningly that I sat down. I had forgotten about the 
 centipedes, when suddenly Berthe cried out: 
 
 " Oh, look on Ida ! look on Ida's sleeve ! " and then ran 
 away as fast as she could. 
 
 I looked at Ida and saw an enormous centipede, which 
 just then ran off Ida's sleeve and began to crawl up her 
 arm. The poor child began to scream, but did not move, 
 she was so terrified. I was dreadfully frightened, but un 
 fortunately every one had gone into the parlor, and there 
 was no one to help Ida but myself. There was not a 
 moment to be lost, for the creature began to crawl on to 
 her neck, so I tried to brush it off with my hand, but I 
 was not quick enough, and it caught my finger and bit 
 me so terribly that I could hardly shake it off. I screamed 
 out with the pain and ran towards the parlor, from which 
 in. a moment every one rushed to meet us. Little Ida was 
 almost In convulsions from fright, and altogether there 
 was a grand hubbub. 
 
 I was almost wild with pain, and it was a long time before 
 my finger grew any better. Mamma very kindly took me 
 in her room for the night, as I could not sleep, and Marie 
 sat beside me and comforted me. And she helped me 
 very much, for when my pain grew very bad, as my hand
 
 270 MAKGTJBRITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 and arm ached and swelled, Marie whispered to me to be 
 brave, and submit to God's will. She reminded me of a 
 conversation we had had with Mademoiselle, who urged 
 u to offer to God each and every pain we suffered, whether 
 great or small. 
 
 At first the pain was all I could remember, but after a 
 time, as Marie talked in her gentle voice, a great quiet came 
 over me, and although the twinges of pain were very bad 
 still, I could bear them much better. It did not seem 
 much to offer to God the bite of a centipede, but I do not 
 think He would despise it. 
 
 Yesterday Mine. Louis Yintimil came very kindly to ask 
 after me, and brought little Ida, who cried when she saw 
 rny swollen finger. She kissed me, and was so sweet that 
 it was touching to see her. 
 
 I have been reading a good deal, as I cannot Tise my 
 hands. I have been very much interested in some of Miss 
 Edgeworth's stories, and it helps me with my English too. 
 
 Mademoiselle is reading to us from Bossuet now, and 
 very delightful it is, he writes so simply and yet so beauti 
 fully. 
 
 Sunday, April I7t7i Easter Day. 
 
 What a lovely festival Easter is! The most beautiful 
 of all the j'ear ! How I love all the gayety and rejoicing 
 after the mourning and sadness of Holy Week. 
 
 Marie and I had a long talk about many such things as 
 we came home after Mass this morning. It seems to me 
 as if Marie really likes the sad memories of Passion Week 
 better than the rejoicing of Easter. When I said so to her, 
 she replied : 
 
 " Perhaps it is so, Marguerite, and yet all the sufferings 
 of Our Lord would be no comfort to me without the Resur 
 rection. Still I think that where we love very much, we
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 271 
 
 are even more willing to share the sufferings than the joys 
 of those we love." 
 
 "Ah, yes, Marie/' I cried, "and you understand the 
 sufferings only too well, when you are so ill as you are 
 sometimes ! " 
 
 " That is nothing when we look at the Cross," said Marie, 
 " and then what hope it gave me to-day to hear the preacher 
 speak of the empty grave?" 1 
 
 " Oh, Marie, do you still have those sad thoughts ? Pray, 
 do not make me feel so sad on this happy festival ! " 
 
 " We will not say any more about it, Marguerite, but let 
 us go and speak to Marianne, who I see there with her 
 school-friends." 
 
 Last evening Marie had a letter from Alberic, who spoke 
 very kindly of Gustave ; I am so glad that our brothers like 
 each other. 
 
 Mine. Dumont has sent us a great basket of splendid 
 fruit, oranges, mandarins and lemons, all tied up in great 
 bouquets, such as they make of the early cherries in France. 
 
 Thursday, April 21st. 
 
 Oh, how empty the house seems without Marie and 
 Jeanne ! I can hardly forgive M. de la Caze for sending 
 for his nieces without giving us more warning. lie sent 
 the cabriolet and Sylvain to-day with a note to mamma, 
 begging her to allow his nieces to come to Badarnier for 
 three or four days, to be with Marianne, who has a vacation. 
 They also want to have Marie's little baby, Marguerite, bap 
 tized. Mamma did not like to let Marie and Jeamie go 
 alone, but M. de la Caze had been kept at home by business, 
 and said they would be quite safe with Sylvain. Jeanne 
 was delighted at the idea of seeing the plantation again, 
 _but Marie is always sad when she bids us good-by.
 
 272 MARGUERITE AT BOTJKBON. 
 
 Tuesday, May 3d QuARTiEU- 
 
 It is twelve days since I last wrote in my Journal, and I 
 little thought at that time what a shock was in store for 
 us. I was writing in the school-room by the open window, 
 thinking all the time of Marie, when I saw a negro como 
 running into the enclosure. He said something hastily 
 to our servants, and in a moment I heard Idala exclaim : 
 " It's not possible. Mamzelle Marie ! Mamzelle Jeanne I 
 not possible ! " I began to shake all over, but I rushed 
 down stairs in a moment, and stood before the negro, 
 who I now remembered to have seen at Mine. Dumont's. 
 Janvier was raising Babet from the ground, for she had 
 fainted. I must have looked very white, for Idala cried 
 out when she saw me : 
 
 " Oh, Mamzelle Marguerite, you must not die too! " I 
 tried to speak, but could not ; at last I pointed to Babet, 
 and said : 
 
 "What ails her!" 
 
 "Oh," said Idala, "she loved her little mistresses so." 
 
 " Idala," I cried, shaking her as if I were in a rage, " do 
 not tell me that anything has happened to Marie ! " She 
 did not answer, and only looked at me in a frightened way, 
 when suddenly Mademoiselle appeared. I staggered to 
 wards her and fell into her arms, crying : 
 
 " Oh, Mademoiselle, help me ; they want to tell me that 
 Marie " and sobs choked my voice. 
 
 Mademoiselle put her arms around me tenderly, arid, sit 
 ting down on a bench in the veranda, comforted me, while 
 she urged the negro to tell his message. 
 
 " The young ladies have been thrown from the carriage," 
 he said, "and I am afraid Mamzelle Marie will soon be 
 dead." 
 
 It was too much ; everything grew black around me, and
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 273 
 
 I heard nothing more. "When I came to myself I was in the 
 parlor on the sofa, and Mademoiselle was bathing my fore 
 head. As I raised myself I said : 
 
 " Oh, Mademoiselle, tell 'me that what that man said is 
 not true ! " 
 
 " Be brave, my child," replied Mademoiselle, with her 
 eyes full of tears. ; " Marie needs us and asks for us." 
 
 " Oh, Mile., then she can speak ! she is not so ill as I 
 thought ! " 
 
 " Let me finish, my child ; Jeanne is not badly hurt, but 
 Marie lias been more injured. Mine. Dumont has sent for 
 a surgeon, and her carriage will take us back in an hour, 
 if we can go." 
 
 " Oh, let us go, let us go ! " I cried. 
 
 " But are you strong enough, Marguerite ? Agitation 
 would do Marie great harm, and you could not see her 
 unless you could control yourself." I raised myself from 
 the sofa, and, wiping my eyes, said steadily : 
 
 " See, I am not crying, and then to see Marie would com 
 fort me so much ! " 
 
 "Mademoiselle kissed me, and said: 
 
 " Now I will go to your mother. What news I have to 
 tell her ! Fray to God to support us all, Marguerite ! " 
 
 After Mademoiselle had gone, I tried to comfort Babet, 
 who was sobbing in a corner of the room. At first she 
 would not listen to me, persisting that her dear little mis 
 tresses were to die before her, and she loved them so 
 much, more even than her own sons.. At last she grew 
 more quiet, but begged me most earnestly to let her go 
 with us to see Marie. I promised I would ask mamma. 
 
 Notwithstanding all Mademoiselle's care, poor mamma 
 was so shocked at the news of the accident that she was 
 quite -ill. Of course it was impossible for her to start at 
 12*
 
 274: MAEGUEEITE AT BOUKBON. 
 
 once, indeed she felt she should be a care rather than an 
 assistance. So she begged Mademoiselle to go, and take 
 me with her, since I felt strong enough. She would join 
 us to-morrow, and she bearded that Mine. Dumont would 
 
 ' OO 
 
 send her news of Marie at the earliest hour possible the 
 next day. 
 
 So we started, the surgeon, Mademoiselle, Babet and I. 
 What a journey it was ! Mademoiselle was very silent, Babet 
 cried, and I longed to drag the carriage with my own 
 hands. As we turned into the avenue leading to Reunion 
 (I forgot to say they took Marie and Jeanne there, as the 
 accident happened near the house), my heart seemed to 
 grow cold and faint. 
 
 Mine. Dumont was waiting on the piazza for the sur 
 geon ; she looked very grave, and I ran to her, crying : 
 
 " Is he too late ? is he too late ? " 
 
 " No," she said, " let us hope not," and she led the surgeon 
 towards the staircase. My heart seemed bursting, and I 
 do not know what I should have done without Mademoi 
 selle. She led me into the parlor, whispering : 
 
 " Courage, my child ! be brave and trust in God." In a 
 inoment Mrne. Louis Vintimil came to us, and Made 
 moiselle begged her to tell us how the accident happened, 
 promising that I would be brave. 
 
 Wednesday, May 4th. 
 
 Mine. Yintimil then told us that until they reached the 
 Ravine des Chevres the sisters had proceeded very safely. 
 The horse had seemed very restive and ugly, but Marie 
 drove very well, and Sylvain kept close to them ; Jeanne 
 was nervous, but Marie was quite calm, and managed the 
 horse nicely until they reached the Ravine. She was driv 
 ing slowly,, as it was a rough place, when, at a turn of the 
 road, they came upon a cart with one mule fallen on the
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 275 
 
 side of the road. This frightened the horse, who began to 
 gallop, notwithstanding all Marie's efforts to stop him. 
 Sylvain ran after the cabriolet, and Jeanne screamed, " Stop 
 us ! stop us !" which only made the horse go faster. At this 
 moment a drove of beeves came npon the bridge directly 
 in front of the horse, which would have to pass through 
 them ; the horse began to rear frantically, which was horri 
 ble on such a narrow, high bridge. 
 
 Jeanne cried, " Jump, Marie, jump ! " and before Marie 
 could prevent her, she was out of the cabriolet with a bound. 
 Marie thought she must be killed, and was about to follow 
 her, when the horse went off like a flash ; he was wild with 
 fright. Marie thought only of Jeanne, and, dropping the 
 reins, jumped from the cabriolet, which was now dashing 
 over the road, making it much worse for her. She fell 
 violently to the ground, and then rolled to the bottom of a 
 little ravine which was full of stones. When they found 
 her, a quarter of an hour later, she was unconscious and 
 covered with blood ! 
 
 Jeanne also fell in jumping from the cabriolet, and, 
 striking her head against a stone, was stunned for a few 
 moments. But she came to herself by the time the ne 
 groes, who were driving the beeves, and Sylvain reached 
 her, and she begged them at once to follow poor Marie. She 
 was so shaken by her fall that she could not stand, and I 
 hardly know what would have become of the poor girl if M. 
 and Mine. Villiers had not passed at that moment. They 
 took Jeanne at once into their carriage, and then followed^ 
 the negroes who were searching for Marie. 
 
 When poor Sylvain and the other negroes brought Marie, 
 bruised, bleeding, and apparently dead, to the carriage, I 
 can hardly bear to think how Jeanne must have felt. 
 
 They brought her at once to Ke union, where Mine.
 
 276 MAEGUERITE AT BOUKBON. 
 
 Diiinon't, although terribly shocked, was calm and collected, 
 and did all she could to restore Marie. After a time she 
 came to herself and asked for Jeanne, but she was so 
 dreadfully weak and prostrated, that they expected every 
 moment would be her last. After a time Marie rallied 
 enough to understand how ill she was. but she was very 
 calm, asking only to see a priest, and that they would let 
 her uncle know of the accident, as well as ourselves, whom 
 she " would like to see once more, if possible." This was 
 the sad story, and how many tears fell while we were listen 
 ing to it ! 
 
 I began to be so impatient to hear something of my 
 dearest Marie, for the surgeon remained for hours shut up 
 in her room. At last M. de la Caze came to speak to us. He 
 looked very pale and agitated, but said that M. Lebel, the 
 surgeon, spoke hopefully of Marie ; she suffered terribly, 
 however, for she was covered with wounds and bruises, and 
 had one arm broken. At this news I cried out, and M. 
 de la Caze put his hand on my shoulder, saying : 
 
 " She begs to see you, my child, but you must be calm, 
 or I shall never dare " 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur, I will be calm, I assure you, when I am 
 with her." 
 
 " The broken arm is not a serious injury," continued M. 
 de la Caze ; " but what makes me most anxious," he added 
 in a low voice, " is the shock, with her trouble of the heart" 
 This then was what we had to dread ; how my heart swelled 
 as I thought of it ! 
 
 As soon as the surgeon had set the arm, he gave Marie 
 a soothing draught, and urged her to try and sleep. But 
 she said she could not do so until she had seen us, for she 
 had heard that Mademoiselle and I w r ere in the house. 
 
 I shall never forget how my poor Marie looked, lying
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOUKBON. - 277" 
 
 on the bed, weak as a child, and her face, which was as 
 white as the pillow, surrounded by a cloud of her beautiful 
 hair. Mademoiselle bent over her, and, kissing her fore 
 head, whispered how we thanked her for sending for us ; 
 but when I stood beside her I could only say : 
 
 " Oh, my sister ! " for my voice would choke with sobs. 
 Marie's sweet eyes looked at me lovingly and encourag 
 ingly, and she said very, very feebly : 
 
 " Mine. Guyon ? " 
 
 " She will come to-morrow," replied Mademoiselle; " she 
 was too much agitated to-day." 
 
 " Oh, I shall injure her," said Marie sadly. 
 
 " Do not talk, Marie," said Mine. Dumont ; " you must try 
 now to be quiet, and we will leave you." 
 
 Poor Jeanne was asleep, with Babet beside her, so rejoiced 
 to watch over her young mistress. Marie desired it, so 
 they allowed Mademoiselle and me to sit with her, while 
 she composed herself to sleep. Sad as it was to see my 
 dearest Marie in such a state, what a comfort it was to sit 
 by her and nurse her ! 
 
 Friday, May 6th. 
 
 I could not write yesterday, for I was absolutely left in 
 charge of Marie. Mme. Dumont insisted upon taking 
 mamma and Mademoiselle to see Mme. de la Gaze, so I was 
 left alone with Marie, who grows better daily. 
 
 I forgot to say that mamma came to Reunion the 
 day after the accident, M. Yintimil having most kindly 
 made all the arrangements for the carriage and other 
 matters. That kind Mme. Dumont insisted upon taking 
 mamma with Stephanie and Berthe into her house, although 
 she had already with her M. and Mine, de la Gaze with 
 their children. 
 
 How kind the Creoles are ! Mamma cannot say enough
 
 278 MARGTJEKTTE AT BOURBON. 
 
 of what she calls their " patriarchal hospitality." If the 
 cause of our being here were not so sad, we should all be so 
 happy here, in this beautiful house, with all these kind 
 people. I hope when they are able to move Marie to 
 Badamier, that M. de la Caze will invite us there, for it 
 : would break my heart to leave Marie now. 
 
 Mamma is delighted with Badamier too ; she says it is 
 BO quiet and peaceful. I am sure that if mamma could 
 live in such a place with papa and all of us, that she would 
 soon grow- stronger and better. Even now, after this second 
 shock, she begins to -look better, and has more color in 
 her pale cheeks. Stephanie and Berthe are as happy and 
 well as possible, out all day long, with plenty to amuse 
 and interest them. As for me, I would never leave Marie, 
 if mamma did not make me go out sometimes for exercise. 
 I asked Marie the other day if she thought she would be 
 killed when she jumped from the cabriolet, and how she 
 felt. She said at first she thought only of Jeanne, but as 
 she was falling over those rough stones, which hurt and 
 bruised her so terribly, she cried : " O God, have mercy 
 -upon me ! " Then she asked me to tell her how we had 
 first heard of the accident, and when she saw by my 
 trembling voice and the tears I could not keep back how 
 much I had suffered, she stretched out her left hand (the 
 right she cannot move yet) and holding mine, said : 
 
 " Oh, Marguerite, how happy I am in your love ! and 
 yet " The tears came into her eyes, and I asked quickly : 
 
 " What is it, Marie ? " 
 
 " It troubles me to think what would have become of 
 you, if I had been killed." 
 
 " But, Marie, why should you trouble yourself about such 
 terrible things, since God has been so good as to cure you ? " 
 She smiled sadly, and said :
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 279 
 
 " Let ns always love each other, Marguerite, but let us 
 love the Friend who can comfort us above all else." 
 
 " Oh, Marie, do I not love Him since He has brought 
 you to life again ? " And thon I would not let her talk 
 any more, since I was her nurse, and must see that she did 
 not get tired. 
 
 Sunday, May 8th. 
 
 This morning Mme. Dumont took mamma, Mademoi 
 selle, Jeanne and me to Mass at Sainte Suzanne. Oh, how 
 earnestly we thanked God for having saved Marie, and 
 prayed to Him to cure her completely ! 
 
 The church at Sainte Suzanne is very simple, even poor 
 looking, but 1 liked it. It stands surrounded by beautiful 
 trees, and looking down upon the sea. 
 
 Nearly opposite the church there is a large fine house, 
 which Mine. Dumont says belongs to a French lady, who 
 has opened a boarding-school. She lost her husband in 
 France, and being left with but little property and four 
 little girls, she came out to Bourbon, where she has a sis 
 ter living, and hopes to support herself by means of teach 
 ing. We saw her at the church with her four little girls, 
 all in mourning, and some of her scholars. 
 
 The sugar-cane is in blossom now, and is so very pretty. 
 I have never seen the blossoms until now. 
 
 Monday, May 23d CHAMP-BORNE. 
 
 Here we are very happy at Badamier, although we shall 
 never forget Mme. Dumont's kindness to us all. It is a 
 month since the accident happened, and Marie has gained 
 strength much faster than any one thought she could. She 
 still has her palpitations, and suffers a good deal; when I 
 think, too, of her as she was before the accident, I see how
 
 280 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 changed she is ! Very weak and thin, but then how much 
 she has had to bear ! 
 
 The journey from Reunion did not fatigue her very 
 much, but she is so patient and brave, that it is not easy to 
 tell how ill she feels. She stayed in bed all day yesterday, 
 but to-day the air was so delightful that M. de la Gaze 
 wanted her to breathe it out-doors. So he had a lounge 
 put under one of the great trees for her, and I have been 
 sitting beside her. 
 
 How happy it has made me to see my dear sister once 
 more in the open air, and to think that we may soon be 
 able to study and work together again. Marie too has en 
 joyed the pure air, the lovely blue sky, the smiling aspect 
 of everything around her. After a few moments she said 
 she would like to try and walk a little, so, with the help of 
 my arm, she went slowly down the avenue to one of our 
 favorite spots, close to the little brook we both love so 
 much. Marie thought she would like to rest here, so I 
 had the couch brought down for her, and I established 
 myself on a rock at her feet. 
 
 As Marie looked around her with such a contented smile, 
 she said : 
 
 " O Marguerite, do you not feel how God is here, in 
 the midst of all this sweetness ? Marguerite, do you think 
 you love Him as you ought ? " 
 
 " Not as much as I ought, Marie, but still very much. " 
 
 " If you only knew, Marguerite, how I pray every day 
 that you may learn what I have learned, that it is He that 
 we should love beyond and above all others. " 
 
 " Then, Marie, you love Him more than you love 
 me?" 
 
 " Oh yes, my sister ; but after Him there is no one so 
 dear to me, I believe, as you are. "
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 281 
 
 " That satisfies me, Marie, " I said, kissing her. " I could 
 not ask for anything more. " After a pause, Marie said : 
 
 " Marguerite, I love you so dearly that I wish you would 
 let. me talk to you from my heart. " 
 
 'And why not, Marie?" 
 
 " Because you have not the courage to hear what I want 
 to say, dear Marguerite ; you are only preparing more 
 unhappiness for yourself by refusing to see-my state and 
 the sorrow before you. " 
 
 " But, Marie,"! said a little impatiently, " why should we 
 think of such things, now that God has been good enough 
 to cure you ? " 
 
 " I am very grateful, Marguerite, that lie has given us 
 more time, but I feel and know that we ought to be pre 
 pared. If you will not think of what may happen, you re- 
 fuse the grace which God will give you to bear our sepa 
 ration. " 
 
 " Well, Marie," I said, " tell me what you want to say, but 
 it breaks my heart " and I burst into tears. 
 
 Marie put her arms around me and whispered : 
 
 " Do you think it is only for my own satisfaction that 
 I want to speak of what is so painful to you ? No, it is for 
 you, Marguerite, for it frightens me to see how much you 
 love me. If our friendship, which is so sweet, should only 
 prove in the future a sorrow to you " aiid here Marie's tears 
 fell too fast for her to continue. 
 
 > " No, Marie," I cried, " do not be uneasy about me. 
 Teach me only to love God as you do above all else, and 
 then perhaps lie will save you if lie is satisfied with me. " 
 Marie smiled and said : 
 
 " Thank you, Marguerite. Now we can speak plainly, 
 and it will be good for both of us, will it not ? " 
 
 As I was about to reply, I started, for M. de la Caze
 
 282 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 stood behind us. I do not know how much he had heard, 
 but he looked agitated, and speaking tenderly to Marie, 
 told her she was fatiguing herself too much and must go in. 
 
 As we entered the house we met old Barabbe, who was 
 delighted to see Marie again, although shocked to find her 
 so changed. Little Helena seems to be devoted in her . 
 kindness to the poor old man. 
 
 Mademoiselle calls me for my catechism, to which now I 
 give more attention than ever since the time for my first 
 communion is so near. 
 
 Friday, May 27th. 
 
 -We had yesterday a great surprise, and a great pleasure ! 
 I was reading to Marie after breakfast, and the children 
 were playing in the dining-room, when little Pierre an 
 nounced that some one was coming in a carriage. They 
 all ran to the window to see, and soon began a discussion 
 as to who it could be. 
 
 Jeanne said it was a cabriolet with something black in 
 it. 
 
 " No," said Berthe, " something blue." 
 
 " Hush," said Stephanie, " it does not matter ; do not 
 quarrel about it, we shall soon see." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Jeanne at last, " we are both right ; it is a 
 blue dress and a black veil, and it is a sister." As I heard 
 this, I exclaimed : 
 
 " Can it be one of our sisters on the Isere ? " and I ran 
 to the window. 
 
 At this moment th"e cabriolet stopped, and I saw it was 
 dear good Sister Alexis. How joyfully I ran to meet her, 
 and she too seemed happy to see us again. She had heard 
 of Marie's accident, and that we were all at Champ-Borne, 
 BO, as she was living quite near us, she could not resist the 
 temptation to come to us. How it agitated poor mamma
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 283 
 
 to see Sister Alexis and talk to her of the ship and her 
 dear baby. But it did her good too, for Sister Alexis said 
 so much that was comforting to her. 
 
 We were very sorry to have several visitors while the 
 sister was with ns, for we should have enjoyed more to see 
 her alone. Some of the ladies were talking about France, 
 and one said : 
 
 "It is only in Paris that one can enjoy life ; to live here 
 in Bourbon is to vegetate." 
 
 " You are right," cried a young lady, looking around her 
 scornfully, which was not very polite to Mine, de la Gaze ; 
 " how miserable our houses must look to Europeans, and 
 what a monotonous life we must seem to lead ! " 
 
 " You are mistaken, . Mademoiselle," said mamma ; 
 " Parisians know how to appreciate, I trust, what is good 
 and noble ; and to many of them this simple, hearty hospi 
 tality and these united households would seem far beyond 
 the gay, frivolous life of a great city." 
 
 " Oh Mine.," said one of the gentlemen, " you forget 
 the pleasures of wit and intelligence, and yet you are so 
 fitted to understand them ! " They all said a great deal 
 mora- to prove that Paris was everything delightful, and 
 Bourbon only dull endurance. 
 
 After they went away, M. de la Gaze remarked how 
 strange it was that all Creoles sighed for France, thinking 
 it the only place to live in, and yet few went to Paris who 
 did not after a time regret their little island, and feel glad 
 to return. 
 
 Sister Alexis left us only too soon, but 'we shall certain 
 ly go to see her before we go back to Saint Denis. 
 
 I am going to walk with the children while mamma is 
 with Marie. I like very much to watch the coffee gather 
 ing, which is going on now. They, spread the grains oir
 
 284: MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 great platform before the store-house to dry them, which 
 unfortunately turns their fine red color into brown. Every 
 night they put them in a heap, and cover them with mats, 
 the next day they are spread again, until quite dry. 
 
 Saturday, June 18th SAINT DENIS. 
 
 Everything is in confusion in the house, for we are all 
 preparing for the grand festival to-morrow, and as the 
 archbishop is to pass our gate and give us the benediction, 
 we have to arrange an altar. ' We are almost smothered in 
 flowers, for Mine. D union t, Mine. Villiers and M. de la 
 Gaze have sent us huge baskets full of flowers, and great 
 palm and cocoa-nut branches. M. de Yintimil and M. de 
 Veilles are at work in our enclosure, which looks beauti 
 fully with all the green and the lovely wreaths which 
 Marie has made. She cannot run about like the rest of us, 
 so she lies on the couch in the veranda, while I bring her 
 flowers, thread and scissors as she needs them. Mamma 
 and Mademoiselle, assisted by Mme. Vintimil, are arrang 
 ing the altar. 
 
 The children are flying around everywhere, delighted 
 with the confusion and disorder. This festival makes me 
 think of the triumphal march of our Lord Jesus Christ 
 when he entered Jerusalem, and the Jews strewed palm- 
 branches before Him with songs of praise. And yet how 
 soon they changed their praise into abuse and insult. It 
 is dreadful to think of it ! But we serve and praise Him 
 always. 
 
 Monday, June 20th. 
 
 What a pity that yesterday has passed already ! We 
 had a lovely morning, the altar was all ready, and was
 
 MARGUERITE AT EOUEBON. 285 
 
 beautiful. How graceful the palm-branches are ! We 
 put them on each side of the altar, and the effect was 
 beautiful with the drooping vines and wreaths of bright 
 flowers. Marie and Babet kept the children, while mamma 
 and Mademoiselle took Jeanne and me to the church. 
 
 What a fine sight it was when we reached the open 
 square, crowded with persons waiting to join the proces 
 sion ! There were several schools, with the pupils all in 
 white, with colored sashes. I could see both Marianne and 
 Adele looking very serious, and I tried to be so also, but 
 the bustle and noise distracted me very much. But all at 
 once, when the priests appeared everything was quieted. 
 The archbishop, who was under the dais, elevated the Host, 
 and every one fell on his knees. The procession then 
 started, singing chants as they passed from one street to 
 another. It seems that this procession passes one year 
 through the lower part of the town along the shore, and 
 the next year, through the upper streets and over the 
 heights. This year it was to take the lower part of the 
 town, and our house was the most distant point it would 
 reach before turning back to the church. 
 
 Poor mamma was much agitated as we came in sight of 
 the sea, which brought, of course, many thoughts of papa 
 and poor baby. The music too was beautiful, partly mil 
 itary, as if we had been God's army ; and then what an im 
 posing sight it was, as the great harbor lay before us stud 
 ded with vessels, while the long procession wound along, 
 with fluttering banners, and the forts saluted with their 
 loud, strong voices. Oh, how beautiful and how striking 
 it was ! 
 
 From time to time we came to the different stations, 
 when the archbishop pronounced the benediction. How 
 delightful it was when we reached our station, and as
 
 286 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 the archbishop stood amongst the flowers, I felt that God 
 was really blessing us and all we loved. 
 
 Wednesday, June 2Qth. 
 
 Yesterday was a very sad day ! We had a mail from 
 France, which brought us letters from poor Gustave, after 
 he had heard the terrible news about dear baby. Mamma 
 made herself ill, for she shed so many tears. Indeed it 
 Beemed to bring our grief all back to us, and it was as if 
 we had just lost the dear little love. Poor Gustave, he 
 says he can hardly believe it. M. Guer told him the news, 
 but he feels as if there must be some mistake, that he must 
 be dreaming. I understand that so well, for I felt so my 
 self for a long time. Gustave feels very anxious about 
 mamma, and begs us all, but me in particular, to send 
 him news of her. I have written already, but I shall 
 write soon again, for I know if I were in Gustave's place 
 I should be so troubled about mamma. 
 
 We had kind letters from many of our friends, but the 
 most beaxitiful was from M. P Abbe Martin. How kindly 
 and consolingly he wrote. I had a letter from Clara, who 
 seems very sorry for our loss, and indeed I always knew 
 she had a kind heart. But I was surprised to see her letter 
 so badly written, and with so many faults. I should be 
 sorry to be rich, if it made me so ignorant. 
 
 Marie and Jeanne had letters from Alberic. What a 
 good brother he is ! And so is Gustave, for he writes to 
 me so tenderly, and seems to have forgotten all my bad 
 temper. 
 
 Saturday, July Wth. 
 
 How quickly the time passes, although the days seem to 
 me so long! Here we have come to the week of the Retreat, 
 and then my first communion! How earnestly I have
 
 MAKGUEKITE AT BOUKBON. 287 
 
 longed for it, how truly I have prayed to be fitted for it ! 
 I feel so happy, I can only say over and over again in my 
 heart, " Thanks, thanks, O my God." 
 
 He has indeed been very good to me, as Marie says. Ho 
 has given me a mother such as few children have, then 
 my dear Mademoiselle, who is always trying to make me 
 better, and also my dearest sister Marie, who is like no 
 one else in the world. I believe I know that I am grate 
 ful for it all. And now God has sent these good mission 
 aries, w r ho can preach to us during the Retreat. One of 
 them, M. Laly, is very eloquent, and all his companions 
 look up to him, although he is the youngest. The mis 
 sionaries are on their way to Japan, and what noble men 
 they are ! It makes my heart beat to think how much 
 they give up ; and they are going perhaps to martyrdom, 
 and all for the sake of Our Lord ! 
 
 The captain of the vessel who brought the missionaries 
 came to see mamma, as he had brought her a letter from 
 Uncle Henry. The captain spoke of these priests as 
 " heroic men," and said every one on the ship respected and 
 admired them. 
 
 Marie will follow the Retreat, as she and Jeanne want to 
 renew their first communion with me. 
 
 To-morrow I shall make my general confession. I pray 
 that God may see how earnestly I repent of all my sins, 
 and how much I want to correct them ! May He give me 
 His grace to purify me, and make me at least good as 
 Marie is good. 
 
 FIRST DAY OF THE RETREAT, Monday, July 18t7i. 
 
 Our Retreat began last evening after vespers. Mad 
 emoiselle allows me to continue my journal, for she knows 
 that I shall only write of holy things, since my mind ia 
 now so full of them.
 
 288 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 Yesterday after vespers our places were given to us, and 
 then M. Laly gave us a lecture ; I can hardly believe how 
 happy I am, and yet I am afraid M. Laly said much, how 
 ever, to encourage us. lie said God knew just how poor 
 we were, how full of faults, but He came to us all the same 
 to give us all we needed, and to fill our hearts full of 
 grace and love. He comes to us holding out His hands 
 and calling us ; all we need to do is to throw ourselves at 
 His feet and say humbly, "My Father, I have sinned." 
 
 I shall never forget all his beautiful words, but I wish 
 I could describe his voice and the look which lie seems to 
 Bend right into our hearts. 
 
 This morning M. Laly preached upon Death. He told 
 us we ought to begin at once to prepare for it, for even 
 young as we were, it might come to us at any moment. 
 He said, too, how wicked and foolish it was for us to be so 
 afraid of it. We were walking towards it every day, and 
 yet we closed our eyes and would not see what was before 
 us. And then when the time came for us to die, we 
 were shocked and startled as if we had met an enemy in 
 stead of the kind friend who might lead us to Our Lord. 
 
 As he spoke of the happiness of dying, I thought of my 
 dear Marie, and my tears fell fast. She was not near me, 
 as she sits with those who have made their first communion. 
 I am with the Sisters' scholars, and next to Adele, to whom 
 I try to be as kind as possible. She is very gentle, and 
 seems very much improved. 
 
 We shall go to church twice a day during the three 
 days of Retreat. Mine. Yilliers has kindly lent mamma 
 her carriage for a week, so that she will not have too much 
 fatigue. 
 
 SECOND DAY OP THE RETREAT, Tuesday, July Wth. 
 
 Yesterday evening our lecture was on the Judgment.
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 289 
 
 It seemed to me as if we had really come to that terrible 
 day, when God will ask us to give account of all the good 
 and evil we have done. I wish 1 could write down all 
 that M. Laly said, but I should never have the time. 
 Marie is taking notes, however, and she promises to let me 
 copy from them by-and-by. 
 
 M. FAbbe Morni has told us how we should act, with 
 order and quiet, on the day of our first communion, lie 
 asked the young girls to dress as simply as possible, and 
 also alike, since there would be no distinction of rich and 
 poor before the altar ; we should all stand there as sisters. 
 My dress will be very plain white muslin, with a 'veil of 
 the same, a wreath of fresh white roses, and a bouquet at 
 the waist. These flowers will be placed on the altar after 
 wards. 
 
 Wednesday, July 20th. 
 
 I shall not write much to-day, for I feel too much ex 
 cited and moved. Mademoiselle urges me to calm myself, 
 and thinks my Journal will do me good. 
 
 Yesterday evening the holy missionary, as he is called, 
 preached to us on Penitence, and this morning on the 
 Eucharist. To-night we shall not have a lecture, as we 
 go to confession. Indeed we ought not to need one, as we 
 have already heard so much of which we can think con 
 stantly. How my heart turns to God, and how earnestly 
 I desire to feel that He is near me, ready to hear all my 
 prayers and grant my petitions ! How beautiful to feel 
 that He is Our Father, always forgiving, kind and 
 patient! 
 
 How I wish that my own dear papa were here, that I 
 mio-ht beg him to forgive me for all the wrong I have ever 
 done to him. I shall write to him to-night, and I pray, 
 too, for him, for Gustave, and for all I love. 
 13
 
 290 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 THE DAT OF MY FIRST COMMUNION, AND THB HAPPIEST OP MY LIFB. 
 
 I shall only write a word, as -we are about to start for the 
 cemetery, and go from there to the church. But I must 
 put down one word to mark this day, the most beautiful in 
 my life. I am so happy, so very happy, I feel as if in 
 heaven there could be no greater happiness. I cry, but I 
 am happy ; I cannot say much ; I can hardly pray, but in 
 my heart I am talking to God continually. I must stop ; 
 I will tell the details of this happy day another time. 
 Now I go to be confirmed. 
 
 Saturday, July 23d ' 
 
 It is two days since my first communion. How I wish I 
 could bring it back! But, alas! it mus't always remain be 
 hind me. 
 
 I will go back to Wednesday, the day of confession. After 
 I had finished my Journal, Mademoiselle read to us a chap 
 ter from " the Imitation," and then we each prayed by our 
 selves. Mademoiselle then called me, and reminded me 
 of the sweet and sacred duty I had to perform, to ask 
 pardon of all whom I had offended in any way, for I 
 must be in peace with all the world before going to con 
 fession. I threw myself in her arms, I even wanted to 
 kneel before her, and cried : 
 
 "You, first of all, you, whom I have pained so often, I 
 do indeed repent, and promise to be good in future, and 
 give you only pleasure. .Forgive me_, forgive me! " 
 
 " She held me in her arms, and, with tears in her eyes, 
 said: 
 
 "Ah, my dearest child! I do indeed forgive you, and I 
 pray God to bless you now and always. But go to your 
 mother, my darling." 
 
 As I ran into mamma's room I found her looking sadly
 
 MAEGUEEITE AT BOTTKBON. 291 
 
 at papa's portrait. I fell down at her knees, and said, with 
 many sobs : 
 
 " Oh, ray dear good little mother ! I beg you to forgive 
 me, and give me your blessing, and papa's too ! " 
 
 Mamma bent over me, and, kissing me repeatedly, said : 
 
 " Bless you, my child ! I bless you and forgive you. I 
 must tell you too, at this solemn moment in your life, how 
 much you have done to correct your faults. By your 
 struggles and your perseverance, my child, you have given 
 me great satisfaction. You have consoled your mother, 
 nay darling child." Oh, how happy I was ! 
 
 "Mamma, mamma," I cried, "you are too good. And 
 will you not give me papa's blessing? will he not forgive 
 me too?" 
 
 Mamma took papa's portrait, and, putting it to my lips, 
 said: 
 
 " When I speak for myself I speak for him too, Mar 
 guerite. He would indeed forgive you, for he has spoken 
 to me already of your improved temper and disposition." 
 
 Oh, how delicious it was to feel mamma's arms around 
 me, and to know that she was contented with me ! When I 
 left her I went to Marie, who said tenderly she had nothing 
 to forgive ; to Jeanne, who asked me to forgive her ; to 
 Stephanie, who cried, and to Berthe, who laughed. Then 
 to each of the servants, to whom 1 had often been im 
 patient and cross. They all spoke so nicely to me, and 
 seemed so interested. 
 
 At last we started for church, and when I approached 
 the confessional my heart beat so fast that I could hardly 
 breathe. We had to wait a long, long time, for there was 
 such a crowd. But I prayed all the more earnestly for 
 the pardon I was about to receive. 
 
 At last my turn came, and, after making my confession,
 
 292 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 as I listened to the solemn words of the priest, I could not 
 keep back my tears, and I whispered from my very heart : 
 " O God, forgive me, forgive me." A real feeling of peace 
 came to me, however, when it was over and the priest said : 
 "Now go in peace, my child." I still shed many tears, 
 but they were comforting, not sorrowful. 
 
 The evening was delightful, although, of course, very 
 quiet. "We talked a little, but not very much ; my heart 
 was too full. We sang some chants together, and I would 
 willingly have spent the night in praying, but Mademoiselle 
 'insisted I should go to bed. 
 
 Early the next morning, as I heard Babet's steps, as she 
 came to wake us, I thought gladly : " The day has come, the 
 day of my first communion ! " Every one was so kind to 
 me. Mamma put on my dress and veil with her own 
 hands, while Stephanie looked at me with her great eyes 
 full of awe, and Berthe danced about me in delight. 
 
 Even the servants seemed to look at me with respect 
 and consideration. 
 
 When we reached the church, and I saw all my com 
 panions, like a great white cloud, filling the benches, my 
 heart was filled with joy and gladness ; I -exchanged some 
 kind words with Adele, for I wanted to feel entirely at 
 peace with every one. 
 
 The archbishop addressed some beautiful words to -us, 
 in the name of Our Blessed Lord, and then in ranks we 
 approached the sacred table. My limbs trembled under 
 me, my heart beat almost to suffocation, yet how happy, 
 how more than happy, I felt ! 
 
 Sunday, July 2<itk. 
 
 Of this most solemn moment of my life, what can I say ? 
 I have often heard it said that when the heart feels most,
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 293 
 
 the lips say least, and so it must be with my pen. 'I can 
 only say that much as I had thought of this sacred mo 
 ment, much as I had prayed for the inestimable blessing 
 and privilege, the reality far exceeded my expectations. I, 
 who had been impatient, vain, unreasonable so often in 
 the past, felt a great peace and strength bestowed upon me, 
 far beyond what I had ever had before. 
 
 I did indeed bow down both head and heart to adore 
 Him who had said to all of us: ' ; This "do, as oft as ye shall 
 drink it, in remembrance of me." 
 
 When we came back to our places, I fell on my knees 
 and prayed more earnestly than I had ever done for each 
 one of those I loved. -I remembered, too, all who had been 
 kind to me and indeed all I had ever known,, trying to 
 forget that I had ever disliked or felt angry with any one. 
 
 When we came out of the church, I found myself sur 
 rounded by all our family, each one coming to kiss me and 
 say some kind words. Mile. Berthe had a great many 
 questions to ask, but I could make but little reply, my 
 heart was so full. 
 
 In the afternoon we went again for the Confirmation. 
 The archbishop spoke again to us, reminding us of the 
 apostles, and how they had been confirmed by the Holy 
 Spirit, feeble men growing strong and wise through the 
 grace poured upon them to support and enlighten them. 
 He told us that these gifts of the Holy Spirit would come to 
 us too, according to our needs, if we only prayed for them 
 with the full strength of our hearts ; that we should re 
 ceive faith, love and hope, and the power to resist all temp 
 tations, if we earnestly desired to live and die for Our 
 Saviour. 
 
 The archbishop then approached each one of us, laying 
 his hands on our heads, signing us with the cross on the
 
 294 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 forehead, and giving us the little blow which represents 
 the injuries and outrages we are prepared to endure for 
 Our Lord. 
 
 It seems that Mile. Berth e, who had mounted upon a 
 bench in order to watch me during the ceremony, was not 
 at all pleased with these little blows. She said : 
 
 " I do not want the archbishop to slap Marguerite," and 
 they had great trouble in keeping her quiet. I said to her 
 afterwards : 
 
 " Some day you will be very happy yourself to have 
 that little blow." 
 
 " No, indeed," she replied ; " all the rest yes, but not 
 that; I should never like it." She. is such a child ! 
 
 Berthe seems determined to try all my good resolutions, 
 for the very day after the great ceremony, while I was 
 down stairs, she went to my wardrobe, and began turning 
 over all my things. When Stephanie told her I would 
 not like it, she replied : 
 
 "Oh, Maguitte will not scold me, she is too good now 
 for that." 
 
 But this morning it was too much, for she seized my 
 Journal and was about to tear out some of the blank leaves 
 to use as drawing-paper when 1 caught her arms. 
 
 " You must not get angry, Maguitte," she cried, " for I 
 have read in here all the promises you have made to God." 
 Then she had read what I had never intended anyone but 
 mamma, Mademoiselle, and Marie to see ! I felt very badly, 
 and ran to Mademoiselle for consolation. She has prom 
 ised to speak to Berthe, but tells me I must hold fast to 
 
 my patience and forbearance. 
 
 Monday, July 25th. 
 
 I have a little more to tell about the happy day we had 
 together in the enclosure, and talked of al Iwe had thought
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 295 
 
 and felt during the day. We seem only closer together, 
 since I too have approached- the altar. I trust I shall 
 never forget all I have vowed on this happy day, and I 
 shall always try to bring it back to my memory, by going 
 to my Journal. 
 
 Yesterday we had letters from papa. How kind it was 
 for him to remember the time of my first Communion, and- 
 send me his blessing with many loving words ! He does 
 not ask us to come to him yet, and he took great pains not to 
 let us know the reason, but we heard from the vessels that 
 there is a terrible epidemic among children now in Pon- 
 dicherry. So we are still detained here. 
 
 I have not said that we had long letters some time ago 
 from Gustave and M. Guer. The latter says Gustave works 
 well, and gives so much satisfaction that mamma may well 
 be proud of her son. 
 
 SALAZIE, Thursday, August 18th. 
 
 We arrived here last Saturday, but I have not been able 
 to write before, as we were all in confusion. Even now I 
 am not very comfortably arranged for writing, as we have 
 only one table for the two rooms, and neither bureau nor 
 secretary. ' Really the houses at Salazie cannot be called 
 very convenient. However, it is so beautiful here, indeed 
 so magnificent, that we ought not to complain at any little 
 discomforts. 
 
 Mamma, who has seen the Alps, says that some of the 
 scenery here remind her very much of that country. 
 Mademoiselle, too, is quite enthusiastic about it, and said 
 yesterday that she could hardly imagine a country which 
 had greater attractions, beautiful sea-views, and then these
 
 296 MARGUERITE AT BOUKBON. 
 
 magnificent mountains. We are all very happy ; and with 
 Mrne. Louis Yintimil's family and M. de Yeilles we have 
 a charming time. If it were not for our anxiety about dear 
 Marie's health, which caused us to come here, how delight 
 ful it would be ! After the terrible attack of palpitation 
 which Marie had last week, the physician said we must 
 give her change of air at once, and although mamma felt 
 overwhelmed at the idea of the long, hard journey to Sal- 
 azie, she consented to start without delay. 
 
 It is all very rough here, but M. de Yeilles has explained 
 that it is only a very short time since they discovered the 
 Valuable mineral spring here, and that the first settlers had 
 enormous obstacles to overcome. The roads were terrible, 
 and the country perfectly wild and very rough. After a 
 time they will have good roads for carriages, and then 
 everything else can be improved gradually. To-morrow 
 I will describe our journey and arrival here. 
 
 Friday, Augmt 19th. 
 
 We slept one night at Mine. Dumont's, and started at 
 sunrise the following day. Mamma, Marie, Jeanne, Berthe 
 and I were in the large carriage, while M. de la Gaze, Made 
 moiselle and Stephanie were in the cabriolet. Soon afte*r 
 leaving St. Andre we reached our halting-place, where we 
 were to meet our baggage, chairs and palanquins, and the 
 negroes who were to carry us. There too, to our surprise, 
 we found M. de Yeilles. He said that as M. and Mine. 
 Yintimil were established at Salazie and did not need him, 
 he had come to help M. de la Gaze to take care of us. It 
 was certainly very kind of him. 
 
 M. and Mine, de la Gaze were very anxious to come 
 with Marie, but it was very difficult for them to leave 
 home on account of their house, little children, and negroes.
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 297 
 
 So when they found that we were only too happy to watch 
 over my darling Marie, they put her entirely in our care. 
 M. de la Gaze made the journey with us, and now, since his 
 return, mamma sends him a daily bulletin of Marie's health. 
 After meeting M. de Veilles, we had our breakfast in 
 the open air, which was very pleasant. The morning air 
 had given us famous appetites, and we found Mine. Du- 
 mont's provisions excellent. What a pretty place the halt 
 ing-place was ! They called it " The Watering-pot," on 
 account of a cascade which came tumbling down the 
 
 o 
 
 mountain, through vines and leaves, sprinkling everything 
 around far and near with a fine rain. 
 
 Neither Marie nor mamma were fatigued as yet, and I 
 felt so happy that I ran off with the children to- look for 
 raspberries, which grow there in great quantities. We 
 brought them to mamma and Mademoiselle on great leaves, 
 and how delicious they were, with their sweet perfume ! 
 
 When we started the second time, we presented a strange 
 spectacle. Mamma went first in a sedan-chair with Berthe ; 
 then came Jeanne and Stephanie in a closed palanquin, 
 so that they should not be frightened at the precipices ; 
 after them Marie and I were carried in an open palan 
 quin, and Mademoiselle was behind us in a chair made for 
 this sort of travelling. It had holes through which poles 
 were passed, which were held by negroes, but I do not 
 think it was very comfortable. M. de la Gaze headed our 
 caravan on horseback, and M. de Veilles closed the pro 
 cession also on horseback. 
 
 What a peculiar company we made. I was constantly 
 putting my head out of the palanquin, to watch our pro 
 gress, although I felt that any movement made it harder 
 for the poor negroes who were carrying us. I could not 
 help feeling sorry for them, although they seemed very 
 13*
 
 298 MARGUERITE AT BOUKBON. 
 
 cheerful, and sang as they climbed up the mountains 
 with us. f 
 
 "We passed one place which was called " the Staircase." 
 The mountains rose high and straight far above our heads 
 on each side, in a way that was almost terrible. I am 
 sorry I cannot describe all these beautiful sights, but I do 
 not think I shall ever forget them. There was one cascade 
 that fell from a height of fifteen feet, and then the dense 
 forests covering the sides of the mountain. The great trees 
 towered above us, with their trunks covered with moss, 
 while" beautiful vines fell in wreaths from the branches. 
 Marie told me the names of some of the trees, and one of 
 the negro porters told me about a great many more of 
 them. At a certain height, some of the highest mountains 
 have only palm-trees, and higher still only bushes and a 
 sort of reed like a bamboo, which they call calumet. 
 
 Sunday, August 21st. 
 
 I could not write yesterday, for we took so long a walk 
 that we were away from early in the morning until sunset. 
 I have nearly entire holiday at present, although Mademoi 
 selle gives me a little with which to occupy myself every 
 day, so that I may not be quite idle. To-day I have resolved 
 to write my Journal, although I hear the children calling 
 me to come and play in the forest, which is a great 
 temptation. 
 
 I want to be near Marie, however, for she is not at all well 
 to-day, having another attack of palpitation. I put my 
 hand over her heart just now, and was shocked to feel 
 how fast it was beating. Poor Marie, how much she 
 suffers ! But I will try to believe that this pure air will cure 
 her. 
 
 This morning we had Mass in a little hut, which they are
 
 MARGUERITE* AT BOURBON 1 . 299 
 
 using until they can build a small church. It was very 
 touching to have the service in this humble place, 
 for it made one think of God's goodness, since He is 
 willing to come to us whenever we call upon Him, either 
 in a grand church or poor hut. 
 
 1 I have not yet described the end of our journey, which 
 was accomplished happily, although we were all very tired. 
 Indeed, Marie was so exhausted by the rough jolting, 
 although our porters were as careful as possible, that both 
 Mademoiselle and I were very anxious about her. She 
 laid on the mattress of the palanquin, looking so pale and 
 weak that I began to be afraid the journey was too much 
 for her. When we arrived at last, we found the Yintimil 
 family, delighted to see us, and the little ones really cried 
 out with joy. Our hut we found very small, two rooms 
 and a veranda, and that was all ; but we put Marie to bed 
 without delay, and she had a good night. 
 
 The next dav we found we had a delightful situation, 
 
 */ o f 
 
 at the foot of a thickly-wooded mountain, where we can 
 wander all day amongst the ferns and wild flowers, under 
 the great beautiful trees. We all enjoy it greatly. Mamma 
 and Stephanie are gaining color and appetite. Berthe is 
 like a little rose, and a little bird too, her face is so fresh, 
 and she sings all day long. Jeanne grows larger and pret 
 tier every day, and Mademoiselle and I are always well. 
 If it were not for Marie, we should be so happy ! But I do 
 not want to be unreasonable, for now that we have brought 
 her where so many come in search of health, surely she 
 must be benefited. Mme. Vintimil says they are expecting 
 now some ladies and gentlemen from Mauritius, who are 
 coming to try the waters here. She thinks it will be very 
 pleasant for us, since they are always very good friends 
 with the Bourbon people.
 
 300 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 Yesterday Mademoiselle and I went with quite a large 
 party to the spring and to " the Lake of the "Water-fowl," 
 one of the most beautiful lakes of Salazie. The warm 
 spring is in a narrow valley, and they have put up on each 
 side funny little huts for the bathers, which look like 
 -birds' nests. " The Lake of the "Water- fowl " is very beauti 
 ful, situated at the foot of a high mountain, which rises 
 three thousand feet above it. The lake, too, is very far 
 above the sea, like everything at Salazie, so that the fish 
 which swim in its clear Avaters are far above the heads of 
 the birds at Saint Denis ! 
 
 We breakfasted in the forest, and how delightful it was! 
 There was laughing, singing and running about, while 
 some of- the party told stories of interesting adventures in 
 hunting wild goats through different parts of the moun 
 tains. One of the boldest hunters was an M. Villiers Adam, 
 who ris"ked his life any number of times in hunting over the 
 wildest mountains, and seemed to enjoy the danger of it. 
 
 If Marie gets better, we shall have more of these parties. 
 I think we shall stay at Salazie all through the month of 
 September, and then go back to Saint Denis to prepare for 
 our journey to India. How I wish the physicians would 
 order Marie to take a voyage ! How gladly we would 
 take her with us ! 
 
 Thursday, September 1st. 
 
 Marie is very ill ; I can no longer deny it. Ah ! what 
 shall I do, what shall I do ? I am writing my Journal be 
 side her, because I cannot bear to leave her. She begs me, 
 too, to occupy myself, for she cannot bear to see me with 
 the tears in my eyes, looking so wretched and unhappy.
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 301 
 
 Just now, as she was falling asleep, she looked so pale and 
 feeble that the tears fell from my eyes upon her forehead 
 as I leaned over her. She opened her eyes, and, with a 
 sweet smile, said softly: 
 
 " Do not despair, Marguerite. I do not suffer so much 
 now, and it does me good to know you are near me while 
 I am asleep." 
 
 So I have begged mamma not to let the children disturb 
 
 oo 
 
 Marie, and I am writing by her bed. But it oppresses me 
 to hear her hard, quick breathing. The physician here is 
 uneasy, and begs us to send for another to Saint Denis. We 
 expect M. de la Gaze to-night. Marie has been ill since last 
 Sunday, but I was not anxious until to-day. Mamma and 
 Mademoiselle, however, have been uneasy for some time ; 
 and Marie says herself that she has felt she was losing 
 strength every day since the bad attack she had before we 
 started for Salazie, and she has been, so brave and has never 
 told us ! How I pray sheymay be mistaken. O God ! thou 
 knowest it all, let me keep Marie. Make me poor, sick, 
 unhappy ; only let me keep my darling friend and sister ! 
 
 Sunday, September 4th. 
 
 I have been to Mass this morning, and have prayed so 
 earnestly for Marie ! I think she is better, and M. de la 
 Gaze seems hopeful, although he has tears in his eyes when 
 he speaks of Marie. lie has sent for Mine, de la Gaze, to 
 whom mamma will give her bed, and will sleep herself 
 on the floor. We are all with Marie constantly, all want 
 ing to nurse her. Jeanne is very sweet and tender to her, 
 and rather inclined to dispute my right to be so much with 
 Marie. She said a little sharply : 
 
 " I am her true sister" But I replied :
 
 302 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 " O Jeanne ! but am 1 not sister and friend too. But 
 do not let us quarrel ; we can both wait on her." 
 
 As I raised Mane's pillows to-day, for she seemed to be 
 breathing so painfully, I said : 
 
 " Are you more comfortable, Marie ? " 
 
 " Yes, much more so ; thank you, Marguerite." 
 
 " But, Marie, why not tell me when you are uncomfort 
 able?" 
 
 Marie raised her eyes to the crucifix, which hung before 
 her, and said very softly : 
 
 " I have a better bed than He had" 
 
 " O Marie ! " I cried, " but He does not forbid yon to 
 take relief." 
 
 " And you see I do accept it. O Marguerite ! let us 
 both look to Him and be resigned." 
 
 " Marie, there is one thing, you see, only one, which I 
 can never accept." 
 
 " And it is that very thing, perhaps, which God will ask." 
 As I was about to reply, Mademoiselle came to us, and re 
 proaching Marie gently for speaking so long, led me away. 
 
 Then I thought of Marie, and how resigned she was to 
 God's will, and of mamma, who had given up baby, and 
 did not rebel, in spite of her terrible grief. Should not I, 
 too, be willing to make an offering ? But I cannot think 
 of it all, for my heart is so full. 
 
 Monday, September 5th. 
 
 Marie is not so well to-day. She is sitting up, because 
 she could not stay any longer in bed, so we have put her 
 in a large chair with pillows, and a foot-stool for her feet. 
 She breathes better than in bed. She had a terrible attack 
 of suffocation this morning, and I was so frightened. For 
 a time she could not breathe at all, and after she recov 
 ered, she lay for hours without the slightest movement.
 
 MAKGUEKITE AT BOUKBON. 303 
 
 Mrne. de la Gaze and mamma prepare the medicines 
 ordered by the two physicians ; one arrived from Saint 
 Denis last evening. They try to make us think that this 
 attack is the effect of the air here, and will pass. How 
 hard it is to see Marie suffer. I can see how painful it is 
 to Mademoiselle, too, although she is so calm and quiet. 
 She does Marie so much good by talking to her gently of 
 such things as can help and strengthen her. I can do 
 nothing but give her now and then a cooling drink, and 
 yet how I long to help her ! 
 
 Tuesday, September Qtk. 
 
 I am going to write a little to-day, as it is the only thing 
 I can do in Marie's room, since they have forbidden me to 
 talk to her. Mamma and Mme. de la Gaze are here too, 
 but do not speak, as Marie must be kept very quiet. Mam 
 ma's tears, fall very often, for now that she sees M. and 
 Mme. de la Gaze so anxious, it depresses her very much. 
 
 Yesterday I resolved to talk to Marie calmly and with 
 out hesitation. When she waked she pointed to "the 
 Imitation, " which Mademoiselle had in her hand, and 
 asked her to read the chapter entitled "On a Happy 
 Eternity and the Miseries of this Life." Mademoiselle's 
 voice trembled with feeling as she read of the earnest long 
 ing for heaven and the sufferings on earth, but Marie's 
 face was beaming. Her eyes were fixed on the crucifix, 
 and, as Mademoiselle finished, I heard her whisper : 
 
 " Oh, the blessed dwelling in the celestial city ! When, 
 oh when shall I be with Jesus 1" As Mademoiselle kissed 
 her, she said : 
 
 " Thanks be to God, dear child, that He has so strength 
 ened and fortified you by His love." 
 
 " Ah, yes, J love Him, I do love Him, but not enough 
 yet ; and" I sometimes think that I do not fear enough."
 
 304: 1IARGUERITE AT BOTJKBON. 
 
 " Fear is not necessary," replied Mademoiselle, " save for 
 those who do not love enough. For you, dear child, it is 
 useless, and indeed would offend God," who has over 
 whelmed you with benefits. " 
 
 " Yes, overwhelmed ; and what a blessing lie has given-, 
 in calling me to Him so young !" 
 
 " O Marie ! " I cried, " you do not think of us when you 
 speak so. " Marie smiled, and, putting out her hand, drew 
 me close to her, while she whispered : 
 
 " I think of you always, Marguerite, and how sweet you 
 would make my death, if you would only be resigned. " 
 
 " O Marie ! that horrible word !" 
 
 " No, not horrible ; Christians ought not to feel it horrible." 
 
 " But, Marie, it is always a separation !" 
 
 " Yes, Marguerite, and it grieves. me to make you suffer ; 
 but think of me that I go to join my dearest mother, my 
 father, grandfather, and, above all, that I shall be with 
 God !" She was exhausted, and I bent over her, begging 
 her not to talk, and accusing myself of selfishness in want 
 ing to keep her here. Marie put her arms around me and 
 held me closely for some time. At last she whispered: 
 
 " O Marguerite ! how I shall love you in heaven ! how I 
 shall pray for you !" 
 
 "Ask that I should die too, Marie." 
 
 " No, think of your father, mother, and Mademoiselle 
 Yalmy. I shall ask Go'd to give you courage. " Then, after 
 resting a little, she spoke to me of Jeanne, her dear, little 
 Jeanne, asking me to love her as a sister, and also to treat 
 Alberic as a 'brother. Indeed, she said many heart-break 
 ing things to me, but I listened quietly, although I felt 
 overwhelmed with grief. 
 
 To-day she is very much exhausted, although the phy 
 sicians still -speak hopefully.
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 305 
 
 SAINT DENIS, Thursday, September 22d. 
 
 It is a fortnight to-day. Yes, it was Thursday, the 8th, 
 the Feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin. Ah, how 
 I have prayed ! But I will be calm, for I promised Marie. 
 . . . Marie, oh, my sister, where are you ! Why have you 
 gone ! Why have you left your Marguerite ! How can I 
 live without you ! ISTo, Marie, I cannot be resigned, for you 
 see my heart is broken, and it is too great a sorrow. 
 
 I stop and try again while the tears will fall. What can 
 I do but write my Journal ! My studies, they are so dis 
 tasteful to me ! Then we are getting ready to go to India, 
 and I am not well, so mamma will not let me study. At 
 present I can think of nothing but Marie, and how I shall 
 live all my life without her ! I think and think ; I cannot 
 say all that is in my heart. O Marie ! I suffer so much, so 
 , very much ! And you cannot comfort me any more, you 
 who always tried to console me in the least trouble ! 
 had. And this is so great a trouble ! And I am so young, 
 
 and need you so much 
 
 Friday, September 23 d. 
 
 I shall begin again to-day to try and write my Journal. 
 Yesterday mamma stopped me, for she came in and found 
 me crying, so she said I would make myself ill, and sent 
 me to Mademoiselle. I have begged her to let me write 
 to-day, for I want to tell of my last days with Marie, and 
 nothing else will console me. 
 
 O 
 
 Marie decid, can I ever believe it ! Cold and stiff like 
 poor baby, and, like him, put away from our sight ! Oh ! 
 it is terrible ! 
 
 But no, I will not complain, for I promised Marie, and 
 she sees me now. Only sometimes I think, oh, if I could 
 only feel that .she was in Pondicherry or in France, even
 
 306 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 if I could not see her but never again ! It seems as if my 
 heart must break. 
 
 As I have said, Marie was terribly exhausted on the 6th ; 
 her weakness increased so that she could only speak to ask 
 for a priest. Unhappily M. 1'Abbe Margy had left Salazie 
 after Mass on Sunday. They sent for him, but he did not 
 arrive. Mademoiselle comforted Marie greatly, however, 
 praying with her and speaking to her of God and His 
 great goodness and mercy. 
 
 With it all I felt hopeful, for the physician from Saint 
 Denis had gone, saying that he thought Marie would rally 
 from this attack, and as long as there was a breath of life, 
 we might hope, on account of her youth. I know now 
 that he had no hope, but he spoke in kindness, and indeed 
 his words did support us. 
 
 Bat mamma felt terribly, and so did Mme. de la Gaze, 
 although she was very brave. Her husband was more cast 
 down than she, for he would stand behind Marie, looking 
 at her with such a piteous expression it was enough to 
 break one's heart. 
 
 We did not go to bed, bat towards morning Marie fell 
 asleep, more quietly than she had slept for some days. 
 They said it was a good sign, and I went away into another 
 room to thank God for His goodness. I fell asleep in a 
 large chair, and when I wakened Jeanne was standing be 
 fore me. 
 
 " She is much better," she said, and in my delight, I 
 threw my arms around her and kissed her. I went at 
 once into Marie's room, and I can see her now, as she 
 was then. Sitting in a large chair, in a fresh white dress 
 ing-gown, with her lovely hair falling on her shoulders. 
 How lovely she was, and it seemed to me she was not so 
 thin, there was a change since the night before.
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOUKBON. 307 
 
 As I knelt down beside her. Marie put her two little 
 hands on my head, and said softly : 
 
 " If I dared, I would bless you, ray dearest sister." 
 
 " O Marie ! it would be so sweet, but you are not old 
 enough to do so." 
 
 " It seems to me that I am," she said, with such a lovely 
 smile, " for there is now no age for me." 
 
 " Oh, why not, Marie ! " 
 
 " Because I am entering eternity, darling," and, bending 
 over me, two tears fell from her eyes on my face. Oh, if I 
 could feel them again ! 
 
 Sunday, September 26th. 
 
 We were all at Mass this morning, in our deep mourn 
 ing, which mamma has permitted us to wear for our dear 
 sister. 
 
 The morning of "Wednesday continued good. Marie 
 could breathe more easily, and could speak without suffer 
 ing. The children thought she was cured, and were full 
 of joy, but I could see that M. de la Gaze, and indeed 
 mamma and Mademoiselle, looked very sad. 
 
 In the afternoon M. 1'Abbe Margy came, and Marie saw 
 him alone. She made her confession, and then begged 
 him to perform the last offices for her, saying calmly : 
 
 " My father, they are mistaken about my state. I have 
 very little time to live. Indeed, I hope and believe I shall 
 be called away to-morrow." M. Margy yielded to her en 
 treaties, and promised to come the next day and administer 
 the communion. lie was much struck with Marie's con- 
 posure, and said he had never before seen so much faith, 
 resignation, courage and love as this young girl now showed. 
 Oh, my sister, how could any one see you and not love and 
 admire you ! 
 
 During the day Marie was very calm, looking forward
 
 308 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 with so much happiness to the next day, when she would 
 be brought so near to Our Blessed Lord. The night, too, 
 was quiet, and in the morning Marie seemed still better, 
 although very weak. 
 
 Mamma and Mademoiselle had prepared a little altar 
 with our table and some linen draperies, and we put on it 
 some beautiful flowers which had been sent to us. Marie 
 pointed to them, and said : 
 
 " You will keep them, Marguerite, in memory of this 
 day ! " As the daylight grew stronger, Marie seemed a 
 little anxious, and said to Mademoiselle : 
 
 " Pray that I shall have time, and that M. Margy will 
 not be too late." But Mademoiselle soothed her with 
 words of trust and hope. 
 
 At last Jeanne announced " M. Margy." As the good 
 priest came in, we all fell on our knees. He then said a 
 few touching words to Marie, reminding her of the joys of 
 heaven, towards which she was so fast approaching. 
 
 " One step more, my child, and you will possess them. 
 That step Jesiis will take with you, leading you gently, as 
 one of His own. Let your heart, then, be filled only with 
 peace, love and hope. For you there shall be neither 
 trouble, terror, nor sadness. Since Jesus is with you, who 
 can be against you ? " 
 
 Then, approaching Marie, he gave her the sacred wafer. 
 She rose to receive it, and would even have knelt if fyer 
 weakness would have allowed her to do so. After Marie 
 had received, she sank back on her pillows, and lay so en 
 tirely without movement for some time that I was fright 
 ened. As I was about to touch her, Mademoiselle checked 
 me, saying : 
 
 " She is calm and happy; do not disturb her." 
 
 At this moment M. Margy was summond to attend a
 
 MAEGUEKITE AT BOURBON". 309 
 
 dying man at the warm springs, and had to leave us. He 
 approached Marie to say adieu. She seemed distressed 
 to part with him, saying : 
 
 " Oh ! my father, how I wish you could be with me till 
 the last." 
 
 " I will return, my child." 
 
 " It will be too late, but give me your blessing now." 
 M. Margy laid his hands on her head, while the tears came 
 into his eyes as he pronounced the solemn words of his 
 benediction. As he left the room, he said : 
 
 " What an angel she is ! Oh ! if the world could know 
 what death is, when one has faith, love and hope." 
 
 I could no longer deceive myself about Marie's condi 
 tion. I felt that she was dying, and I thought my heart 
 must break ! . 
 
 Monday, September 26t7i. 
 
 Marie seemed better after her communion, and, indeed, 
 slept for a quarter of an hour. As she waked, I was stand 
 ing beside her, and she signed to me to come near her, as 
 she whispered to me : 
 
 " Listen to me, dearest." I was startled to hear how 
 feebly she spoke. She kissed me and, after a pause, said : 
 
 "I am going to leave you, Marguerite ; but Jesus has 
 given me strength to say yet a few words." 
 
 " O Marie ! tell me what you want to say." 
 
 " I am leaving you to Him, my sister, as I hoped to do. 
 Commune often, and always pray for me." 
 
 "Ah! Marie, you will not need it." 
 
 " Do not refuse me ; I shall always pray for you." 
 
 " O Marie ! " I cried, hiding my face, streaming with 
 tears, " I shall not see you any more." 
 
 " Life is short," replied Marie, tenderly, " and you must 
 live to console your mother. Be an example to the little
 
 310 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 ones. Love ray Jeanne well, and be a sister to my poor 
 Alberic." At these words she grew very faint, and as I felt 
 her hands grow cold in mine, I cried out in terror. 
 Mamma and Mademoiselle and Mme. de la Gaze came to 
 us at once. They bathed Marie's temples, opened all the 
 doors and windows, and in a short time she recovered, but 
 she grew weaker every moment. Presently she asked for 
 Jeanne, and when she came to her, she kissed and caressed 
 her fondly, leaving with her messages for all who loved 
 her, Alberic, Mme. Dumont, and even remembering poor 
 old Babet and Barabbe. 
 
 She then said farewell to her uncle and aunt, begging 
 them to watch over Jeanne and Alberic, and thanking them 
 for their love and kindness to the three poor orphans. She 
 forgot no one, leaving loving words to all. When she 
 turned to mamma, she could hardly speak, for poor mam 
 ma's sorrow was overwhelming. She was seized with 
 suffocation, but, rallying at last, said : 
 
 " O Mme. ! you have been a mother to me. She to 
 whom I am going now will bless you." Mamma could not 
 answer, and was obliged to leave the room. 
 
 Marie's eyes, so full of love and gratitude, turned to 
 Mademoiselle, but she did not speak. At last she whis 
 pered feebly : 
 
 " For you I have no words ; you have been my guardian 
 angel." As Mademoiselle, who was trembling violently 
 with emotion, leaned over her, she added : " Stay here 
 close to me help me till the end." 
 
 Mademoiselle knelt close to her, holding the crucifix and 
 saying : " This is our hope." 
 
 Marie tried to take the cross, but her hands were too cold, 
 so I held it for her, while Mademoiselle read the prayers 
 for the dying. Oh, how could I bear to see her die !
 
 MAKGUEKITE AT BOUKBON. 311 
 
 Soon Marie had an attack of suffocation, then very soon 
 another, and each attack left her more feeble. A little 
 later she asked what time it was ; they told her three o'clock. 
 She murmured : 
 
 " Soon, soon ; pray for me ; good-by." Her eyes sought 
 for the crucifix, and, as I put it to her lips, we heard her 
 whisper : 
 
 " My Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit." 
 At this moment she had a terrible attack, and, as it passed, 
 she opened her eyes, looked for a moment at the crucifix, 
 and then, with a sweet, quiet smile, she was gone. 
 
 Tuesday, September 27th. 
 
 I was so ill yesterday after writing, that mamma 
 scolded me. But my Journal is now my great consolation. 
 
 As 'I saw that my dear Marie was gone she could no 
 longer speak to me nor look at me I was seized with a 
 sort of despair, and was about to fling myself upon her, but 
 Mademoiselle restrained me, saying solemnly : 
 
 " Do not touch her; she stands now before God; rather 
 let us pray together." As I fell on my knees, I was awe 
 struck at the thought that Marie, trembling but happy, was 
 now rendering account of her life before Our Blessed Lord. 
 
 But we, we what was to become of us '? As the ques 
 tion rose to my lips, I could bear no more, but fell faint 
 ing beside rny sister, as cold and still as she. 
 
 When I recovered, I found myself in a room with 
 mamma, who w r as kneeling beside me and looking at me 
 so tenderly. At first I could only cry out in my misery, 
 forgetting everything but that Marie was gone from rne 
 forever. Mamma said all she could to calm me, but with 
 little effect, until at last Mademoiselle came in. I flew to 
 meet her, crying :
 
 312 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 " Is it really true is she dead ? I shall not see her or 
 speak to her again ! I am all alone now." 
 
 " No, not alone, my child," said Mademoiselle ; " you 
 forget the friend to whom Marie left you." 
 
 "I do not forget, but" 
 
 " You trouble Marie even now, in the midst of her joy, 
 if you will not strive for courage and submission." She 
 then urged me to compose myself, and come and look once 
 more at my dear sister, otherwise the- physician, who al 
 ready spoke gravely of my excited state of mind, would 
 send me away, as he had sent Jeanne and Stephanie. 
 
 " I have promised for you, Marguerite," she said, " that 
 you will be calm, and will show yourself worthy of the 
 angel we have lost." 
 
 I followed Mademoiselle with trembling steps, and 
 looked at Marie once more. Oh, how pure and beautiful 
 she looked ! She wore the same dress she had had for my 
 first -communion, and as she lay with her hands folded on 
 Ijer breast, she looked like a beautiful statue of the Virgin. 
 Every one who saw her was struck by her great beauty. 
 
 The news of our loss had spread through the mountains, 
 and numbers of the kind country people came to offer aid 
 and sympathy. Each and all had heard of her goodness 
 and piety, and of her saintly death. 
 
 I will "not speak of the sweet but cruel moments that I 
 spent beside my dear sister, nor of the terrible hour when 
 she was taken away forever to make the journey to the 
 cemetery of Sainte Suzanne alone and cold in her narrow 
 coffin ! 
 
 We left Salazie as soon as we could, and made the de 
 scent of the mountain with heavy hearts, missing our dear 
 Marie at every step. Stephanie was with me in the palan 
 quin, and the dear child did all she could to comfort me.
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 313 
 
 She seemed to think only of me and my distress, and said 
 to me so sweetly : 
 
 " May I not try, Marguerite, to fill Marie's place with 
 you ? " But my sorrow was too great to let me feel that 
 any one could fill that place. 
 
 M. and Mme. de la Gaze wanted to carry us to Champ- 
 Borne, but we did not feel that we could bear to be there 
 without our dear Marie. We spent one night with kind 
 Mme. Dumont, and then came at once to Saint Denis, for 
 we had received letters from papa urging us to come to 
 him by the first good ship which would leave Bourbon for 
 India. Mamma is, of course, rejoiced at the prospect of 
 seeing papa so soon, and she thinks, too, that it will be 
 better for me to be taken from these sad associations in 
 Bourbon. 
 
 I am not sorry to go, for now that Marie is not here, I 
 have nothing to keep me. I am grieved that I shall be so 
 far from her grave, but as mamma can. make up her mind 
 to leave dear baby behind her, I must not complain. We 
 shall sail in the Jean Bart early next month. 
 
 Jeanne is with her uncle and aunt at Badamier ; she was 
 very sick for a week after she left Salazie, but is now 
 quite well. She is to go to school with Marianne. Poor 
 Jeanne, what a sister she has lost ! Mamma has written 
 to M. Guer, begging him to prepare poor Alberic gently 
 for the terrible news, and has written to Alberic also, tell 
 ing him of her sorrow and sympathy. But, in spite of all, 
 I know how sad he will be ! 
 
 Saturday, October 1st. 
 
 I must try and be calm, so that I can remember all my 
 conversation with Mme. Louis Vintimil, which has dis- 
 14
 
 314 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 turbed me so much. I did not think I should have any 
 more trials, and now I have one which puts such a heavy 
 responsibility upon me. I cannot ask any one to help me, 
 for I dare not speak to mamma. The thought of such a 
 thing would almost kill her. 
 
 But I must tell the story. 
 
 Mamma and Mademoiselle were afraid that my grief 
 would make me ill, and urged me constantly to go out, al 
 though I assured them that it made me more unhappy. As 
 they could not always walk with .me themselves, they often 
 sent me with M. and Mme. Yintimil, who seemed greatly 
 distressed at the idea of losing us so soon. Yesterday 
 morning they came to beg me to spend the day with them, 
 and although I urged mamma to let me stay at home, she 
 insisted that it would do me good to go. 
 
 After breakfast, during which I had only spoken a few 
 words to M. de Yeilles, who seemed to understand me, and 
 was very sad and troubled himself, I went up to see little 
 Ida. When I had played with her a little while, Mme. 
 Louis Vintimil came in and sent Ida away with her nurse. 
 She then closed the door, and, locking it, said : 
 
 " Do you know, Marguerite, that 1 want to talk" to you 
 about something very important ? " 
 
 To me, Madame ? " 
 
 " Yes, and I hope you will listen attentively." I said : 
 
 " Certainly, Madame." But I was surprised and a little 
 alarmed by such a preparation. 
 
 Mme. Vintimil sat down before me, and, looking at me 
 earnestly, continued : 
 
 " You must believe, my dear Marguerite, that I should 
 not speak to you now on this matter, if you were not going 
 away so soon. I know well how great your grief is, and I 
 am only afraid I shall cause you more sorrow."
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOUEBON. 315 
 
 " Oh ! Madame, I cannot be troubled about anything 
 but Marie now." 
 
 '" I am glad you will listen to me, Marguerite, and I know 
 how brave you can be." 
 
 " Oh ! it is Mademoiselle who has taught me how religion 
 can make me strong." 
 
 O 
 
 " It is of her that I want to speak to you, Marguerite." 
 I was startled ; I thought, " Can Mademoiselle be ill, like 
 my poor Marie ! " 
 
 Mine. Yintimil then went on to speak of Mademoiselle, 
 and said how much they had all learned to love and ad 
 mire her. She praised her goodness and unselfishness so 
 sincerely that I could only thank her with tears in my eyes. 
 
 " You can understand, dear child," she said, " how 
 grieved we feel at the idea of .losing Mile. Valmy, as well 
 as your dear mother and yourself." Suddenly it occurred 
 to me that Mine. Yintimil wanted to take Mademoiselle 
 away from us for her own little girl, and I felt that was 
 rather too much ! Madame Louis added : 
 
 " I am sure you feel as we do, Marguerite, that you 
 would do anything to make Mile. Yalmy more happy." 
 
 " All, yes, Madame," I cried, " although, since I have 
 been so sad, I am afraid I have not thought of her as I 
 should." 
 
 " Then, my dear, would it pain you so much now as be 
 fore if Mile. Yalmy were to leave you." 
 
 I jumped up, crying: 
 
 " Leave us, Madame, and for whom, if you please." 
 
 "Be quiet, Marguerite, or I cannot continue. I. was 
 afraid of this. I see that you love Mile. Yalmy for your 
 self and not for her. Should it make her happier to 
 leave you 
 
 "Oh! Madame, you do not know Mademoiselle; she
 
 316 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 would never wish to leave us.' She is perfectly happy 
 with us. She has said so to me a thousand times." 
 
 " She is happy certainly by comparison ; indeed, as a gov 
 erness, she could not be more delightfully situated ; but " 
 
 " Then what do you want, Madame ? " 
 
 " That she should have a home of her own, children of 
 her own to love and cherish. I know well she would 
 never leave you all to be governess elsewhere, but to be 
 married, and have thus a protector and friend who would 
 surround her with the love and devotion which she now 
 gives to others it is this which I ask for her, Marguerite." 
 
 I was-so struck by these words that at first I could not 
 speak. At last I said : 
 
 " Madame, I am sure that Mademoiselle does not wish 
 for such happiness. She has promised mamma " 
 
 " Yes, I know," interrupted Mine. Yintimil, " and for that 
 reason I cannot speak to Mile. Yalmy again, as she has al 
 ready refused our offers. But I speak to you, Marguerite, 
 for I feel sure you would wish to do everything to secure 
 Mile. Valmy's happiness, and also because you (after your 
 dear mother) are the principal obstacle to our wishes. So 
 I trust to you, Marguerite, for help. By urging Mile. 
 Valmy to listen to my uncle Leo, you will do much to 
 give happiness to one who has suffered greatly. He offers 
 her his name, his high position, his large fortune, and asks 
 only in return the joy which she alone can give him, for 
 he will never love anyone else." 
 
 k ' It is M. de Yeilles who wants to marry Mademoiselle ! " 
 I cried in astonishment; "I had never thought of it!" 
 
 "Do. you not think he is worthy of such a wife?" 
 
 " Oh yes, Madame ; we all like him so much." 
 
 "All? Marguerite, then perhaps Mile. Yalmy will still 
 accept him."
 
 MAKGUEEITE AT BOURBON. 317 
 
 " I hope not, Madame." 
 
 "O Marguerite ! think of my poor uncle ! " 
 
 " But, Madame, she has already refused him." 
 
 " She has refused him, I feel sure, Marguerite, on ac 
 count of her devotion to you, to whom she would sacrifice 
 everything. I am almost certain that she appreciates my 
 uncle, and " 
 
 " But, Mme., I am sure that Mile, does not think of 
 marrying. She is too old." 
 
 " Too old ! Are you crazy, Marguerite ? Because she has 
 been a mother to you for so long, you think Mile. Valmy 
 old at twenty-eight, but no one else would agree with you. 
 My uncle is thirty-six, so their ages are well suited." 
 
 "But, Madame," I cried in despair, " I cannot meddle 
 with it. Ask Mademoiselle to say yes or no, and we will 
 submit," 
 
 " I tell you, Marguerite, she has said no again and'again, 
 saying that nothing would induce her to leave you." 
 
 " You see then ! " I cried, with tears in my eyes. 
 
 " I see, Marguerite, how fond she is of you, and also that 
 she knows how much you love her, and she would 
 give up everything for you. I want you, Marguerite, to 
 find out whether Mile. Valmy has affection for my uncle, 
 and if it is so, I beg you to induce her to marry him. I 
 am sure that if she sees you brave and resigned to losing 
 her, she will then be willing to listen to her own heart." 
 How hard it was in her to ask such a thing of me. 
 
 She talked to me for a long time, telling me how soon I 
 should be able to take Mademoiselle's place with mamma, 
 and how happy it aught to make me to do all in my power 
 to console her for the separation. I am sure I never can 
 console her. But at last I consented to fulfil my mission, 
 as Mme. Louis called it. She kissed and thanked me, say-
 
 318 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 ing that her uncle and family would always bless me for 
 what I had done ; but all the same, I think she was very 
 cruel to ask it of me ! 
 
 And now I cannot think of anything but my dear 
 Mademoiselle, and I wonder how it could be that Marie's 
 death should have made me less tender towards her. I 
 shall have to speak to her on this painful matter, but I 
 must wait Until I am a little used to the idea, so that I shall 
 not begin to sob and cry in the midst of my talk. 
 
 Oh, what shall I do without my dear Mademoiselle, who 
 has been both friend and mother to me for so long! 
 And then what will become of my education ? It is all 
 very well for Mme. Louis to say that I am very far ad 
 vanced in my studies, and that no doubt I shall find plenty 
 of masters in Pondicherry. I am sure I know very little 
 of what 1 ought to know, and no one will ever teach me 
 like Mademoiselle. 
 
 When I looked at her yesterday and saw her so sweet, 
 even in the midst of her sorrow, always thinking of others, 
 I felt how happy she could make M. de Yeilles. When she 
 took Stephanie and Berthe on her lap, and talked to them 
 firmly, but gently, I said to myself : 
 
 " Ah, how well she would bring up her children ! What 
 a mother they would have ! After mamma, there is no one 
 like her!" I had to run away and cry, feeling somehow 
 jealous of these children. I am so much puzzled about 
 introducing the subject to Mademoiselle, so as not to show 
 her my sorrow until she has really said " yes " to M. Leo. 
 But I shall pray to God to give me strength for this, as for 
 all my other trials. 
 
 Monday, October 3d. 
 
 I prayed so earnestly at Mass, yesterday morning, for 
 courage to undertake my great interview with Mademoi-
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 319 
 
 selle, that I grew brave at last. Ah, God never forsakes 
 us, even when He tries us ! 
 
 I shall not write all I thought and felt before the time 
 comes, for I should fill pages of my Journal. At break 
 fast I was so troubled and uneasy that both mamma and 
 Mademoiselle noticed it. At last, just as I had made 
 up my mind after breakfast to go into Mademoiselle's 
 room, I met mamma at the door, and when she said, 
 " Are you coming in, Marguerite ? " I said " No," and 
 ran away. Afterwards, when I thought mamma was safe 
 in her room with Stephanie and Berthe, I was watching 
 for a chance to go in, when out popped Mile. Berthe, cry 
 ing : 
 
 " What are you about, Maguitte, prowling around 
 Mademoiselle's room all the morning ? " 
 
 "I am not prowling. I am waiting for you to go 
 away." 
 
 " Well, that is polite. Cannot I go to Mademoiselle at 
 the same time as you?" and she opened the door, crying: 
 " Look, Mademoiselle, Marguerite is afraid to come in." 
 Mademoiselle came towards the door, saying a little sadly : 
 
 " How long is it since my little' Marguerite was afraid 
 of me ? " I felt as if I must fling myself into her arms, 
 but I thought I ought -not to begin by showing her my 
 affection. 
 
 Presently Berthe ran away, and Mademoiselle said : 
 
 " It is a long time since you have paid me a visit, Mar 
 guerite. But you have had something on your mind since 
 yesterday, my child ; will you not tell rue about it? " 
 
 " O Mademoiselle ! it is sorrow." 
 
 " Yes, my child, I know that only too well, and I feel it 
 all the more that you will not let me try to comfort you." 
 
 " What do you mean. Mademoiselle ? "
 
 320 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 " You almost turn away from me, Marguerite. It seems 
 as if you bad tried to avoid your mother and me ever 
 since the cruel moment when you lost Marie. You have 
 shut up your heart from us, Marguerite, which is not 
 natural to you, and this makes you suffer still more." 
 
 " But, Mademoiselle, ought I not to try and be re 
 signed ? " 
 
 u Certainly, my child, and I should never advise the con 
 trary ; but religion does not deny us the comfort of the 
 loving hearts which God has given us and where will 
 you find more tenderness than with your two mothers ? " 
 
 " O Mademoiselle ! you are too young to be my 
 mother." 
 
 " And what gave you that idea, Marguerite. Have I not 
 always treated you like a mother ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, and that is why I never thought of your being 
 young, but now " 
 
 " Well, what is the change, for I am growing older every 
 day," said Mademoiselle, smiling. 
 
 " Because I think that is, others think, at least some 
 people that you might still like to marry." 
 
 I was so glad I had said the word at last. I did not dare 
 look at Mile., but I felt I grew very red. She said : 
 
 " I marry ! What made you think of such a thing, Mar 
 guerite ? " 
 
 " It is strange, is it not ? " I cried joyfully. "But no, I 
 mean " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " It is very hard to talk about it, Mademoiselle; but I 
 want to tell you that it is very good and generous of you 
 not to want to leave us, but indeed you must not let us 
 prevent you from marrying." 
 
 " And what makes you think that you prevent me ? "
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 321 
 
 "But, Mademoiselle," I cried, "have you never refused 
 any one ? " 
 
 " Dear child," said she kindly, " your interest touches me 
 very much ; but what does all this mean ? I do not under 
 stand." 
 
 '* O Mademoiselle ! " I cried, " do not think I am med 
 dling ; it is not my fault," and the tears were in my eyes. 
 
 Mademoiselle put her arm around me, and, drawing 
 me to her, said : 
 
 " My child, is this your own idea ? " 
 
 " Oh, you see it is not then ? " I cried. " So much the 
 better 1 can tell you then that some one has charged me to 
 ask you." 
 
 " For what ? " 
 
 " For yourself. They ask you in marriage, Mademoi 
 selle." 
 
 " This is rather a strange way to ask ! Who asks it ? " 
 
 " Mme. Louis Yintimil ; that is, she asks you for hex 
 uncle Leo." 
 
 " And she gives you this message ? She has chosen a 
 good messenger, my poor child." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, Mademoiselle, for I am going to ask you 
 to accept him. Mine. Louis says he will never be happy 
 without you, and that you will be sure to be happy with 
 him, so I ought to want yon to marry him." 
 
 " Yet, Marguerite, it would separate us ; have you thought 
 of that?" 
 
 " Oh, you must not think of me at all." 
 
 " On the contrary, my child, I want to know first how 
 you feel about it." 
 
 " What if I do suffer ! Mamma will be even more un 
 happy." 
 
 " I know what Elisa would say. I am thinking of you 
 14*
 
 322 MARGUERITE AT BOUEBON. 
 
 now. A month ago I should not have needed to ask if it 
 would grieve my little Marguerite to lose me. But since 
 her great loss has so. overwhelmed her that nothing else 
 seems valuable to her, I even doubt if she could grieve 
 for me now." 
 
 " O Mademoiselle ! would this make you accept ? " 
 " It would be one less reason for refusing." 
 " Then, Mademoiselle, you had better believe it. But I 
 love you all the same ; but then M. de Yeilles loves you, 
 and he is so good. He is rich too, and you could rest, and 
 do so much good to the poor. Then you would have your 
 own children, who would love you so dearly." But I 
 choked and could not continue. Mademoiselle replied : 
 
 " You plead well for M. de Yeilles, Marguerite, and 
 seem very much interested in his happiness." 
 
 " And in yours too, Mademoiselle. Do you not like M. 
 de Yeilles ? " 
 
 " He is very good, very kind and generous." 
 " But is he not a little too old for you ? He is more 
 than thirty-six years old." 
 
 " That is not exactly old age," said Mile., smiling. " But 
 enough of this. Since you are so brave, Marguerite, I can 
 tell you my decision at once." 
 
 " Oh no, Mademoiselle ; that is, I promised " 
 " Well, my child, I persist in my refusal." 
 I forgot Mine. Louis, and wanted to throw my arms 
 around her, then I remembered M. de Yeilles, and cried : 
 " Do not say so, Mademoiselle. Think how unhappy M. 
 de Yeilles will be. You are too good to want to make 
 any one so unhappy." ' 
 
 " Marguerite, your mother would be unhappy too, and I 
 cannot give her up for any one. However much I may 
 desire M. de Yeilles' happiness, I cannot sacrifice to him
 
 MAKGUEKITE AT BOITKBON. 323 
 
 the affections of all my life. But, Marguerite, tell me now 
 at once, simply and truly, as in the presence of God, 
 who hears all we say, do you feel no regret, or are you 
 hiding it from me ? " I laid my head on Mademoiselle's 
 shoulder, crying : 
 
 " Oh, why do you ask me that ? " and then began to sob 
 as if my heart would break. 
 
 Mademoiselle kissed and soothed me, and said at last : 
 
 " Now, Marguerite, let us understand each other. I have 
 the greatest respect and admiration for M. de Veilles, and 
 can imagine that his wife might well be happy, but, my 
 dear child, I love you arid your mother as I shall never. 
 love any one else. For the present I have all I desire, 
 and for the future my trust is in Him who is sufficient for 
 all." 
 
 " O Mademoiselle, I am so happy ! But Mme. Louis 
 will not think I have urged you as I ought." 
 
 " I shall write to her, Marguerite, and tell her you were 
 a faithful messenger; but I can only repeat my refusal, al 
 though I hope most earnestly that M. de Yeilles may for 
 get me, and be happy without me." 
 
 " He will never forget you, Mademoiselle, I am sure, ana 
 I am very sorry for him. But for myself O Mademoi 
 selle, I never believed I could feel so happy again with 
 out Marie ! " 
 
 Mademoiselle pressed me in her arms, saying tender- 
 
 iy: 
 
 " Let me try to console you,- Marguerite, for what you 
 have lost, and now since you do not think me so old, treat 
 me henceforth not only as a mother, but & friend. I will 
 set you the example, and for the future we will drop all 
 formality, and you shall call me Caroline instead of 
 Mademoiselle"
 
 324 MAKGUEKITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 " Oh, you are too good, too good!" I cried, while I 
 covered her with kisses, saying softly to myself all the 
 time, " Caroline, Caroline," for I could hardly believe it. 
 
 So God has changed all my fears into happiness. How 
 grateful I ought to feel ! Mademoiselle has forbidden me 
 to speak to mamma at present about M. de Yeilles, and so 
 she is only pleased to see how affectionate I am once more 
 with Mademoiselle, my friend. 
 
 Thursday, October Qth. 
 
 At last I have been able to go to the grave of my dear 
 Marie, as I have wished so long to do. But it makes me 
 sad to think how long it must be before I can be there again. 
 As we return to France we shall stop at Bourbon to take 
 the coffin of our dear baby, and then I shall be able to pray 
 once more beside Marie's tomb. While we are in Pondi- 
 cherry Mine. Vintimil and M. de Yeilles have promised to 
 care for the little tomb, where for the present we must leave 
 our darling baby. Caroline and I decided quite suddenly on 
 Tuesday to make our sad journey to Sainte Suzanne. The 
 time for our leaving Bourbon was fixed for the 15th, and 
 we felt that during the last days of our stay we should be 
 too hurried to make such a visit with satisfaction. Mamma 
 did not go with us, for she felt that she must reserve all 
 her strength for her last visit to her little one. 
 
 How sad a drive it was ! My mind and heart were full 
 of thoughts of Marie ! It was six months before that Made 
 moiselle and I had driven over that same road with beating 
 hearts, as we hastened to Marie after her accident. Now 
 we were going to Marie again, but how differently ! I felt 
 as if it must all be a terrible dream ; but as I said so to 
 Mademoiselle, she replied sadly : 
 
 " Ah, Marguerite, these are dreams from which we never 
 awake."
 
 MAKGTJEKITE AT BOURBON. 325 
 
 "When we reached the cemetery we left the carriage at 
 the gate, and, guided by a poor old negro, walked through 
 the centre walk which runs from the gate to the sea. The 
 cemetery seems very much neglected, many of the crosses 
 were overthrown, and the grass was growing over them and 
 over the paths. 
 
 I trust that Marie's cross will always stand erect, for how 
 dearly she loved it ! She asked to have a cross alone placed 
 over her grave, with the simple words " Spes Unica" carved 
 upon it. Often, in reading the beautiful hymn of the 
 Passion, Marie has said to me : 
 
 " Oh, how I love those words ! The cross is indeed our 
 only hope /" 
 
 Marie's grave is quite at the end of the walk, for she lies 
 between her mother and father, and M. de Laval had asked 
 to be buried near to the sea, which, as a sailor, he had loved 
 so dearly. The waves come rolling up almost to their 
 feet ; and the beautiful ocean, stretched out before us in all 
 its grandeur, as we knelt beside Marie and remembered how 
 she had always loved and admired it, how quiet and calm 
 it* was ! There were no sounds but the rustling of the leaves 
 and the soft wash of the water on the beach. One felt as 
 if they could stay forever, and I said to myself, " If it 
 were not for dear mamma, I would pray to be laid beside 
 Marie." It was very hard to tear myself away, but I begged 
 Mademoiselle to let me stop the next day at the cemetery 
 on her return to Saint Denis ; and when she consented, I 
 felt I was not really saying good-by. 
 
 We went from Sainte Suzanne to see Mme. Dumont, 
 where we spent the rest of the day. The next morning she 
 kindly sent us to Champ-Borne, as we wanted to say adieu 
 to M. and Mme. de la Gaze. It was very, very sad to me at 
 Badamier everything reminded me so constantly of clear
 
 326 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 
 
 Marie. M. and Mme. de la Caze welcomed us most 
 kindly, and M. Adrien said to me, with tears in his eyes : 
 " We seem to have our dear Marie very near us when we 
 see you, Marguerite." Poor Jeanne came to meet us with 
 streaming eyes. How much she has lost in Marie, mother 
 and sister at once ! She will go to school as soon as they 
 think her strong enough. Marianne is now at Badamier, 
 having remained at home until Jeanne could go back with 
 her. Jeanne has a very child-like nature, and will soon re- 
 . cover her spirits amongst new faces, but I am sure she will 
 always remember Marie. She told me, with sobs, that they 
 had just had a letter from poor Alberic addressed to Marie. 
 
 I wanted to go and see poor Barabbe, so both Mademoi 
 selle and Jeanne went with me. How strange it seemed, 
 as we walked through the plantation, to see everything so 
 unchanged. The birds sang as gayly, the stream ran as 
 merrily through the leaves and grass, as when Marie and I 
 had made our visits to Barabbe, and now how different it 
 seemed to me! I could not keep back my tears, as I 
 pointed out to Mademoiselle the different places where 
 Marie and I had walked and talked so happily together. 
 
 Poor old Barabbe seemed very sick, and I do not think 
 he can live very long. At first he did not seem to re 
 member me, but when I told him I was Marie's sister, he re 
 plied : "Oh, I know ! 1 know ! " Mademoiselle talked very 
 kindly to him, and seemed to comfort him very much. I 
 think he feels that his troubles and sufferings will soon be 
 over. 
 
 We went to see the little Marguerite too, who is now six 
 months old, and growing nicely. M. de la Caze says he 
 will remember Marie's wishes for the child, and will lib 
 erate her and her mother as soon as he can. 
 
 In parting, M. de la Caze made me a present, which is
 
 MARGUERITE AT BOURBON. 327 
 
 more precious to me than anything I possess. lie gave 
 me the crucifix which consoled my dearest Marie in her 
 last moments, saying, as he did so : 
 
 " My dear little Marguerite, I know how precious this 
 relic will be to you, and for this reason we give it up, 
 although it is sacred to us. We can kneel before our dear 
 child's grave, as you kneel before this cross. Do not forget 
 us in your prayers." I could hardly thank him, for my 
 tears and sobs choked my voice. 
 
 M. de la Gaze has promised to come to Saint Denis to 
 accompany us on board the " Jean Bart." 
 
 On our return, Caroline and I stopped again at the ceme 
 tery, and 1 stood again beside Marie's grave. But when I 
 had to leave it, I tried to be brave, and took some of the 
 white roses which grew near her, feeling, with a bitter 
 pang, that these flowers, a lock of hair, and the cross were 
 all that was left me of Marie. But in the cross 1 shall 
 find my consolation. 
 
 Friday, October *Wi. 
 
 To-day I am twelve years old, and have entered my thir 
 teenth year ! Ah, if Marie were here, what a happy day it 
 would be ! But I communed this morning, and will not 
 indulge in complaints, for I feel so much nearer Marie. 
 
 I do not feel like a child now, and indeed every one says 
 I seem older now, that I am so grave and sad. I have been 
 reading over my Journal during the last few days, and how 
 strange these first pages seem ! How many things there 
 are to remind me of my dear Marie, our first meeting at 
 catechism, our long talks, her grandfather's death, our 
 voyage together, our happiness here -in Bourbon. How 
 glad I am that I have written my Journal so faithfully ; it 
 is so full of memories of Marie. 
 
 I had a long conversation yesterday with Mademoiselle
 
 328 MAEGTJEKITE AT BOUKBOST. 
 
 no, Caroline in preparation for the communion, and my 
 heart is full now, of the good resolutions for the future, 
 which her words gave me. I will strive to be more un 
 selfish, more thoughf ul for the happiness of others, less oc 
 cupied with myself. I will not ask God to let me die and be 
 with Marie, but I will pray to Him to help me to live and 
 be a comfort to those I love. First of all, I shall try to be 
 a friend and companion to my dear mamma, although she 
 has not lost her Caroline. Then I shall struggle to be 
 patient and forbearing with my little sisters, and teach 
 them to come to me for advice and help. Some day, I 
 trust, I shall be with Gustave again, and can then show him 
 what a sister ought to be. May God, who has been so mer 
 ciful to me in the years past, bless me in the future, and 
 guide me always till the end. 
 
 -
 
 NEW BOOKS 
 
 AND NEW EDITIONS, 
 
 RECENTLY ISSUED BY 
 
 G. W. CARLETON & Co., Publishers, 
 
 Madison Square, New York. 
 
 The Publishers, upon receipt of the price in advance, will send any book on this Catalogue 
 by mail, postage free, to any part of the United States. 
 
 Ml books in this list [unless otherwise specified] are handsomely bound in cloti board 
 binding, with gilt backs, suitable for libraries. 
 
 Tempest and Sunshine. 
 
 English Orphans 
 
 Homestear on the Hillside 
 
 'Lena Rivers 
 
 Meadow Brook 
 
 Dora Deane 
 
 Cousin Maude 
 
 Marian Gray 
 
 Mary J. Holmes' Works. 
 
 Alone \ 
 
 Hidden Path 
 
 Moss Side 
 
 Nemesis 
 
 Miriam 
 
 At Last 
 
 Helen Gardner 
 
 True as Steel (new) 
 
 Charles Dickens 15 
 
 Pickwick, and Catalogue... ....$ 
 
 Dombey and Son 
 
 Bleak House .. 
 
 Martin Chu^zlewit 
 
 Barnaby Rudge Edwin Dr&id.. 
 Child's England Miscellaneous. 
 Oliver Twist and The Uncomin 
 Great Expec'atians and Picture 
 Christmas Books -and A Tale o 
 Sets of Dickens' Complete Works 
 
 West Lawn (new) 
 
 Marion H rland's Works. 
 
 50 Sunnybank ...... 
 
 50 Husbands and Homes 
 
 Beulah 
 
 Macaria. 
 
 Inez 
 
 Augusta J 
 
 50 ; Darkness and Daylight 
 
 50 i Hugh Worthington. . 
 
 50 Cameron Pride 
 
 50 Rose Mather 
 
 So 
 
 5 
 So 
 50 
 
 Ethelyn's Mistake.. 
 
 Millbank 
 
 Edna Browning. 
 
 Ruby's Husband. 
 
 Phcmie's Temptation 
 
 The Empty Heart 
 
 Jessamine 
 
 50 From My Youth Up (new) 
 
 Vols.-"Carleton's Edition." 
 
 50 
 
 Dayid Copperfield 
 Nicholas Nickleby. 
 
 50 Little Dorrit 
 
 50 Our Mutual Friend 
 
 50 Curiosity Shop Miscellaneous.. 
 50 I Sketches by Boz Hard Times.... 
 
 rcial Traveller 
 
 of Italy and America 
 
 Two Cities 
 
 in 15 vols. [elegant half calf bindings] .. 60 
 
 . Evans' Novels. 
 
 St. Elmo 9 
 
 Vashti ". 
 
 75 
 
 75 
 
 75 > Infelice (new)
 
 G. W. CARLE TON 6- CO? S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 Rutledge $i 50 
 
 Frank Warrington. i 50 
 
 Louie's Last Term, etc i 50 
 
 Richard Vandermarck i 50 
 
 Miriam Coles Harris. 
 
 The Sutherlands |i go 
 
 St. Philip's i 50 
 
 Round Hearts, for Children i 50 
 
 A Perfect Adonis. (New)... 
 
 May Agnes Fleming's Novels. 
 
 i so 
 
 Guy Earlscourt's Wife fi 75 
 
 A Terrible Secret i 75 
 
 Norine's Revenge. (In pi ess) .... i 75 
 
 Julio P. Smith's Novels. 
 
 A Wonderful Woman i 75 
 
 A Mad Marriage (new) i 75 
 
 Widow Goldsmith's Daughter. .$i 75 
 Chris and Otho i 75 
 
 Ten Old Maids (new' i 75 
 
 The "Widower. $i 75 
 
 The Married Belle i 75 
 
 Courting and Farming. (In press), i 75 
 
 Captain Mayne Reid Illustrated. 
 
 Tl-.e Scalp Hunten 
 
 The Rifle Rangers "i 50 
 
 The War Trail i 50 
 
 The Wood Rargers i 50 
 
 The Wild Huntress 
 
 i 50 
 
 The White Chief $i 50 
 
 The Tiger Hunter i 50 
 
 The Hunter's Feast i 50 
 
 Wild Life..... i 50 
 
 Osceola, the Seminole i 50 
 
 True to the I.as*. 
 
 A. S. Roe's Select Stories. 
 
 pi 50 
 
 The Stai ard the Cloud i 50 
 
 How Could He help It? i 50 
 
 A Long Look Ahead $i 30 
 
 I've Been Thinking i 50 
 
 To Love and to be Loved i 50 
 
 Charles Dickens. 
 
 Child's Hiltory of England. Carleton's New " Scliool Edition" Illustrated.. $i 95 
 
 Hand-Books of Society. 
 
 Habits of Good Society. 1'he nice points of taste and good mannj-s $i 50 
 
 Art of Conversation. For those who wish to be agreeable talkers or listeners .... i 50 
 
 Arts of Writing, Reading, and Speaking. For self-improvement i 50 
 
 New Diamond Edition. Small size, elegantly bound, 3 volumes in a box 3 oo 
 
 Mrs. Hill's Cook Book. 
 Mrs A. P. Hill's New Cookery Book., and family domestic receipts fa oo 
 
 Famous Books " Carleton's Edition." 
 
 Robinson Crusoe. An elegant new izmo edition, with characteristic illustrations 
 
 by KBNKST GRISET. $i 50 
 
 Swiss Family Robinson. An ekgant new izmo edition, with characteristic illus 
 trations by MA RCKi. i jo 
 
 The Arabian Nights. An elegant new izmo edition, with characteristic illustra 
 tions by UKMOKAINE 150 
 
 Don Quixote. An elegant new 121110 edition, with characteristic illustrations by 
 
 GUSTAVH DosA 150 
 
 Victor Hugo. 
 
 Les Miserables. An English translation from the original French. Octavo. (2 50 
 
 Les Miserables. In the Spanish Language. Two volumes, cloth bound 5 oo 
 
 Popular Italian Novels. 
 
 Doctor Antonio. A love story of Italy. By Ruffini $i 75 
 
 Beatrice Cenci. Ky Guerrazzi. With a steel engraving from Guido's Picture, ... I 75 
 
 Manfred. By the Author of " Beatrice Cei ci." Translated by Luigi Monti i 73 
 
 M. Michelet's Remarkable Works. 
 
 Love (L'amour). English translation from the original French $i 50 
 
 Woman (La Femme) Do Do Do i 50 
 
 Popnlar Novels, from the French. 
 She Loved Him Madly. Borys..$i 75 So Fair Vet False. By Chavette .fi 75 
 
 A Fatal Passion. By Bernard i 75 Through Thick and Thin. Mejy. i 75 
 
 Led Astray. Octave Feuillet i 75 
 
 Johnny Ludlow. 
 A clever acd amusing collection of capital New English Stone* fi 50
 
 G. W. CARLE TON & CO. 1 S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 Artemus Ward's Comic Works. 
 
 A New Stereotype Edition. Embracing the whole of his writings, with Bio 
 graphy of he author, and profusely illustrated ft M 
 
 Charlotte Bronte. 
 
 Shirley. By the author of "Jane Eyie." With an illustration ...|l 73 
 
 Ernest Renan's French Works. 
 
 The Life of Jcsua $i 75 I Life of Saint Paul fs 73 
 
 Lives of the Apostles i 75 | Bible in India. By Jacolliot 
 
 Ceo*. W. Carleton. 
 
 Our Artist in Cuba. Pictures. $i 50 Our Artist in Africa. (la press ). .?i 50 
 
 Our Artist in Peru Do 150 
 
 Our Artist in Mexico. Do. . . i 50 
 
 Fanny Fern's Works. 
 
 Folly as it Flies $i 50 I Caper-Sauce (new) fi 50 
 
 Gingersnaps i 50 | A Memorial. By James Parton a oo 
 
 Josh Billings' Comic Works. 
 
 Josh Billings' Proverbs $i 50 I Josh Billings' Farmer's Alminax, 25 ct- 
 
 Josh Billings on Ice 150) (In paper covers.) 
 
 Verdant Green. 
 
 A racy English college story with numerous comic illustrations. $ i 50 
 
 Algernon Charles Swinburne. 
 
 Laus Veneris, and Other Poems. An elegant new edition , $i 50 
 
 French Love-Songs. Selected from the best French authors i 50 
 
 Robert Dale Owen. 
 
 The Debatable Land Between this World and the Next... fa oo 
 
 Threading My Way. Twenty-five years of Autobiography i 50 
 
 The Came of Whist. 
 
 Pole on Whist. The late English standard work f i oo 
 
 Mother Goose Set to Music. 
 
 Mothei Goose Melodies. With music for singing, and many illustrations $130 
 
 M. M. Pomeroy "Brick." 
 
 Sense (a serious book) ?i 50 
 
 Gold-Dust Do 150 
 
 Our Saturday Nights 150 
 
 Nonsense (a comic book) . $iy> 
 
 Brick-Dust Do. . 150 
 
 Life of M. M. Pomeroy * 150 
 
 Joseph Rodman Drake. 
 
 The Culprit Fay. The well-known fsJry poem, with 100 illustrations $* oo 
 
 The Culprit Fay. Do. suberbly bound in turkey morooc*. 6 oo 
 
 Richard B. Kimball. 
 
 Life in San Domingo |i 50 
 
 Henry Powers, Banker i 75 
 
 To-Day i n 
 
 Emilie. (In press.) .. ... 
 
 Was He Successful? $i 75 
 
 Undercurrents of Wkll Street.... i 75 
 
 Saint Leger i 75 
 
 Romance of Student Life i 75 
 
 Celia E. Gardner's Noveis. 
 
 Stolen Waters (in verse) $i 50 I Tested (inproe?.i 75 
 
 Broken Dreams Do i 50 | Rich Medway's Two Loves Do.. 173 
 
 Mrs. N. S. Emerson. 
 
 Betse/ and 1 are Out And other Poems. A Thanksgiving Fitry fs 5* 
 
 Louisa M. Alcott. 
 
 Morning Gloriem A beautiful juvenile, by the author of " Little Women.".. |i J 
 
 Ceo. A; Crofutt. 
 
 Trans -Continental Tourist from New Ycrk to San Francisco. Illustrated .ft p
 
 G. W. CARLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 Miscellaneous Works. 
 
 How to Make Money ; and How to Keep It. By Thomas A. Da vies. fi 30 
 
 Tales from the Operas. A collection of Stories based upon the plots i 50 
 
 New Nonsense Rhymes. By W. H. Beckett, with .llustiations cy C. G. Bush.. I oo 
 
 Wood's Guide to the City of New York. Beautifully illustrated x oo 
 
 The Art of Amusing. A book of homo amusements, with Illustrations x 50 
 
 A. Book About Lawyers. A curious and interesting volume. By Jeaftreson.... . a oo 
 
 A Book About Doctors. Do. Do. Do. .... 3 oo 
 
 The Birth and Triumph of Love. Full of exquisite tinted illustrations. x oo 
 
 Progressive Petticoats. A satirica. tale by Robert B. Roosevelt i 50 
 
 Ecce Femina ; or, The Woman Zoe. Cuyler Pine, author "Mary Brandegee." x 50 
 
 Women and Theatres. A bright and readable book by Olive Logan. x 50 
 
 Souvenirs of Travel. By Madame Octavia Walton Le Vert a oo 
 
 Woman, Love and Marriage. A spicy little work by Fred Saunders x 50 
 
 Shiftless Folks. A brilliant new lovel by Fannie Smith x 75 
 
 A Woman in Armor. A powerful new novel by Mary Hartwell 150 
 
 Female Beauty and the Art of Pleasing. From the Fiench 150 
 
 Transformation Scenes in the United States. By Hiram Fuller x 50 
 
 The Fall of Man. A Darwinian satire. By author " New Gospel Peace." 50 
 
 The Chronicles of Gotham. A modern satire. Do. Do. 25 
 
 The Story of a Summer. Journal Leaves by Cecelia Cleveland x 50 
 
 Pbemie Frost's Experiences. By Mrs. Ann S. Stephens x 75 
 
 Miscellaneous Novels. 
 
 A Charming 'Widow. Macquoid.#x 75 
 True to Him Ever. By F. W. R. . x 50 
 The Forgiving Kiss. By M. Loth, i 75 
 
 Loyal Unto Death x 75 
 
 Bessie Wilmerton. Westcqtt x 75 
 
 Cachet. Mrs. M. J. R. Hamilton... i 75 
 Mark Gildersleeve. J. S. Sauzade. i 75 
 
 Crown Jewels. Mrs. Moffat x 75 
 
 Avery Glibun. Orpheus C. Kerr... a oo 
 
 The Cloven Foot. Do 
 
 i 50 
 
 Romance of Railroad. Smith x 50 
 
 Fairfax. John Esten Cooke i 50 
 
 Hilt to Hilt. Do. 150 
 
 Out of the Foam. 150 
 
 Hammer and Rapier. 15 
 
 Kenneth, My King. S. A. Brock., i 75 
 Heart Hungry .-M. J. Westmoreland 
 
 Clifford Troupe. 
 
 Do. 
 
 Four Oaks. Kamba Thorpe 
 
 Maurice. From the French .. 
 
 Purple and Fine Linen. Fawcett, . 
 
 Faustina. From the German 
 
 Adrift with a Vengeance 
 
 Adrift in Dixie. Edmund Kirke . . 
 Among the Guerillas. Do. 
 Among the Pines. Do. ... 
 
 My Southern Friends. Do. 
 Down in Tennessee. Do. 
 Ebon and Gold. C. L. Mcllvain... 
 Robert Greathouse. I. F. Swift. 
 Warwick. By M. T. Walworth.... 
 Lulu. D. .... 
 
 Hotspur. Do. ... 
 
 Stormcliff. Do. .... 
 
 Delaplaine. D*. .... 
 
 Beverly. Do. .... 
 
 Miscellaneous Works. 
 
 Beldazzle's Bachelor Studies $i oo ! Northern Ballads. Anderson, |i or 
 
 Little Wanderers. Illustrated i 50 | O. C. Kerr Papers. 4 vols. in x... 
 
 Genesis Disclosed. T. A. Davies.. i 50 ' " 
 Commodore Rollingpin's Log.... i 50 
 
 Brazen Gates. A juvenile x 50 
 
 Antidote to Gates Ajar 25 cts. 
 
 The Snoblace Ball Do, 25 cts. 
 
 Victor Hugo. His life. 
 
 a oo 
 a oo 
 50 
 
 Beauty is Power 
 
 Sandwiches. Artemus Ward 25 ct. 
 
 Widow Spriggins. Widow Bedott. x 75 
 Squibob Papers. John Phoenix... . 150 
 
 Miscellaneous Works. 
 
 Bill Arp's Peace Papers. Full of comic illustrations $1 50 
 
 A Book of Epitaphs. Amusing, quaint, and curio>.. (New.) I 50 
 
 Ballad of Lord Bateman. With illustrations by Cruikshank (paper) 25 cts. 
 
 Th: Yachtman's Primer. For amateur sailors. T. R. Warren (paper). 5* cts. 
 
 Rural Architecture. Bv M. Field. With plans and illustrations a ou 
 
 What I Know of Farming. By Horace Greeley x 50 
 
 Twelve Views of Heaven. By Twelve Distinguished English Divines. .... x 50 
 
 Houses Not Made With Hands. A juvenile, illustrated by Hoppin x oo 
 
 Impending Crisis of the South. By Hinton Rowan Helper. o
 
 CHARLES DICKENS' WORKS. 
 
 A New Edition. 
 
 .A menu* the many editions of the works of this greatest of 
 English Novelists, there has not been until now one that entirely 
 satisfies the public demand. Without exception, they each have 
 some strong distinctive objection, either the form and dimensions 
 of the volumes are unhandy or, the type is small and indistinct 
 or, the illustrations are unsatisfactory or, the binding is poor or, 
 the price *s too high. 
 
 An entirely new edition is now, however, published by G. W. 
 Carleton & Co. of New York, which, it is believed, will, in every 
 respect, completely satisfy the popular demand. It is known as 
 
 " Carlcloii's New Illustrated Edition." 
 
 COMPLETE IN 15 VOLUMES. 
 
 The size and form is most convenient for holding, the type u 
 entirely new, and of a clear and open character that has received the 
 approval of the reading community in other popular works. 
 
 The illustrations are by the original artists chosen ly Charles 
 Dickens himself and the paper, printing, and binding are of an 
 attractive and substantial character. 
 
 This beautiful new edition is complete in 15 volumes at the 
 extremely reasonable price of $1.50 per volume, as follows : 
 
 I. PICKWICK PAPERS AND CATALOGUE. 
 
 2. OLIVER TWIST. UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELLER. 
 
 3. DAVID COPPERFIELD. 
 
 4. GREAT EXPECTATIONS. ITALY AND AMERICA. 
 
 5. DOMBEY AND SON. 
 
 6. BARNABY RUDGE AND EDWIN DROOD. 
 
 7. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 
 
 8. CURIOSITY SHOP AND MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 9. BLEAK HOUSE. 
 IO. LITTLE DORRIT. 
 II. MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT. 
 12. OUR MUTUAL FRIEND. 
 13. CHRISTMAS BOOKS. TALE OF TWO CITIES. 
 14. SKETCHES BY 1/OZ AND HARD TIMES. 
 15. CHILD'S ENGLAND AND MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 The first volume Pickwick Papers contains an alphabetical 
 catalogue of all of Charles Dickens' writings, with their positions 
 in the volumes. 
 
 This edition is sold by Booksellers, everywhere and single speci 
 men copies will be forwarded by mail, postage free, on receipt of 
 price. $i 50, by 
 
 G, W, CARLETON & CO., Publishers, 
 
 Madison Square, New York.
 
 THREE VALUABLE BOOKS, 
 
 All Beautifully Printed and Elegantly Bound. 
 
 - 
 
 I. The Art of Conversation, 
 
 With Direction* for Self-Cnlture. An admirably conceived and entertalnlBf 
 work Hennible, Instructive, and fell of puggestionii valuable to every one who 
 desires to be either a good taJter or listener, or who wishes to appear to adnut 
 tmgt In good society. Every young and even old person should read it, study It 
 orer and over again, and follow those hints in it which lead them to break OF 
 tad habits and cultivate good ones. %* Price $1.50. Among the contents wtfl 
 b* found chapters upon 
 
 irnxxTioir n CO'NVEBSATION. SAT- 
 
 HUB. PUNS.- -SARCASM. TEASING. 
 OENHITKE. - -FAULT-FINDING. EGOT 
 ISM. POLITENESS COMPLIMENTS. 
 ftTORIES.-ANECDOTES. -QUESTIONING. 
 
 -LlBKBTTKB IMPUDENCE. STARING. 
 -DlBAOBEEABLB SUBJECTS. SEL- 
 
 FISHNE88. ARGUMENT. SACRIFICM. 
 SILENT PEOPLE. DINNKB COM- 
 VEBSATION. TIMIDITY. ITS CUBE. 
 MODESTY. CORKECI LANGUAGE. 
 SELF-INSTBUCTION. MISCELLANEOUS 
 KNOWLEDGE. LANGUAGES. 
 
 II. The Habit of Good Society. 
 
 A Hanabook for Ladies and Gcntlenen. With thoughts, hints, and anecdotes 
 concerning social observances, nice points of taste and good manners, nd the 
 art at m*H"g oneself agreeable. The whole interspersed with humorous illus 
 tration* of social predicaments, remarks on fashion, nto. %* Price fl.50. 
 Among tb con tents will be found chapters upon 
 
 QENTLEMBN'S PREFACE. 
 
 LADIES' PREFACE. FASHIONS. 
 
 THOUSHTS ON SOCIETY. 
 
 Goon SOCIETY. BAD SOCIETY. 
 
 TH* DRESSING-ROOM. 
 
 THE LADIES' TOILET. DBKSB. 
 
 FEMININE ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 
 
 MANNKRSAND HABITS. 
 
 PUBLIC AND PRIVATE ETIQUETTE. 
 
 MARRIED AND UNMARRIED LAD IKS. 
 
 Do DO GENTLEMEN. 
 
 OAUJNG ETIQUETTE. CARDS. 
 VISITING ETIQUETTE. DINNERS. 
 DINNKB PARTIES. 
 
 LADIES AT DINNEB. 
 DINNKB HABITS. CARVING. 
 MANNERS AT SUPPBB. BALL*. 
 MORNING PARTIES.- -PICNICS. 
 EVENING PARTIES. DANCES. 
 PRIVATE THEATRICALS. 
 RECKPTIONS. ENG AGEMENTS^ 
 MARRIAGE CEREMONIKS. 
 INVITATKNH. DRESSES. 
 BRIDKSMAIDS. PRESENTS. 
 TRAVELLING ETIQUETTE. 
 PUBLIC PROMENADE. 
 COUNTRY VISITS. CITY Visits. 
 
 III. Arts of Writing, Reading, and Speaking;. 
 
 An exceedingly fascinating work for teaching not only the beginner, but foi 
 perfecting every one in these three most dewirable accomplishments. For youth 
 this book is both interesting and valuable ; and for adults, whether professionally 
 or socially, It is a book that they cannot dispense with. %* Price $1.60. Among 
 the contents will be found chapters upon 
 
 READING & THINKING. LANGUAGE. 
 WORDS, SENTENCES. & CONSTRUCTION. 
 WHAT TO AV<D. LETTER WRITING. 
 PRONUNCIATION. EXPRESSION. TONE 
 RELIGIOUS HEADINGS. THE BIBLE. 
 PRAYERS -DRAMATIC READINGS. THE 
 i.TOH & READER. FOUNDATIONS FOR 
 
 OfcATOBY AND SPEAKING. WHAT TO 
 
 RAY. WHAT NOT TO SAY. How TO 
 BEGIN.- CAUTIONH.-DELIVKRY. -WRIT- 
 INB A SPEECH. FIRST LESSONS. PUB 
 LIC SPEAKING. DELIVERY.- ACTION. 
 ORATORY OF THE PULPIT. COMPOSI 
 TION. THE BAR. READING OF WIT & 
 HUMOR. TH<S PLATFORM. CONSTRUC 
 TION OF A SPEECH. 
 vwrkt are the most perfect of their Kind ever published ; fresh., sensible 
 
 jo>td-humored. entertaining, and readable. Every person of taste should po~ 
 
 MM {Arm, and cannot be otherwise than delighted with them. 
 
 JfS~ A beautiful new minature edition of the^e -very popular boV> has junt 
 
 been published, entitled "THK DIAMOND EDITION," three little volumes, e'.o 
 
 pint) y printed OB tinted paper, and handsomely bound in a box. Price $8.00. 
 *,* Then books ar all sent by mail, postage free, on receipt of price, by 
 
 3. W. CABLETON St CO., Publishers, Madison Square, New York.
 
 MARY J. HOLMES' WORKS. 
 
 K. TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE. 
 ,. ENGLISH ORPHANS. 
 J.-HOMESTEAD ON HILLSIDE. 
 * --'LENA RIVERS, 
 j. MEADOW BROOK. 
 
 6 -DORA DEANE. 
 
 7 -COUSIN MAUDE. 
 
 ' 8. MARIAN GRAY. 
 9. DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT 
 io. HUGH WOR1 H INGTOM. 
 ii. CAMERON PRIDE. 
 12. ROSE MATHER. 
 13. ETHELYN'S MISTAKE. 
 14. MILLI5ANK. 
 15. -EDNA BROWNING. 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 "Mrs. Holmes' stories are universally read. Her admirers are numberless. 
 She is in many respects without a rival in the world of nction. Her characters 
 are always life-like, and she makes them talk and act like human beings, subject 
 to the same emotions, swayed by the same passions, and actuated by the same 
 n.otnes which are common among men and womta of every day existence. Mrs, 
 r.olmss is very happy it portraying domestic life. Old and young peruse her 
 stories with great delight, for she writes ia a style that all can comprehend." 
 New Ytrk Wetikly. 
 
 'Mrs. Holmes' stories are all of a domestic character, and their interest, 
 therefore, is not so intense as if they were more highly seasoned with sensational 
 ism, but it is of a healthy and abiding character. Almost any new book which her 
 publisher might choose to announce from her pen would get an immediate and 
 general reading. The interest in her tales begins at once, and is maintained tu 
 the close. Her sentiments are so sound, her sympathies so warm and ready, 
 and her knowledge of manners, character, and the varied incidents of ordinary 
 life is so thorough, that she would find it difficult to write any other than an 
 excellent tale if she were to try it" Boston Banner, 
 
 " Mrs. Holmes i very amusing ; has a quick and true sense of humor, a 
 lytnpathetic tone, a perception of character, and a familiar, attractive style, 
 pleasantly adapted to the comprehension and the taste of that large clast .' 
 American readers for whom fashionable novels and ideal fantasies have DO 
 skann." Henry T. ruckerman. 
 
 Th roluriei are all handsomely printed and bound in cloth, - oW 
 , and sent by mail, fax tage free, on receipt of price [$1.50 each], by 
 
 O. W. CARLETON & CO., Publishers, 
 
 Madison Square ', New Yotk
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 i^orm L9-40m-7,'56(C790s4)444
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 403 7