raised her right hand with a pretty gesture,
as a sign to everybody to be attentive. Plainly enough, she had already
acquired the habit of speaking in public.

She could not be seen, however, from some parts of the carriage, and an
idea came to Sister Hyacinthe, who said: "Get up on the seat, Sophie, and
speak loudly, on account of the noise which the train makes."

This amused the girl, and before beginning she needed time to become
serious again. "Well, it was like this," said she; "my foot was past
cure, I couldn't even go to church any more, and it had to be kept
bandaged, because there was always a lot of nasty matter coming from it.
Monsieur Rivoire, the doctor, who had made a cut in it, so as to see
inside it, said that he should be obliged to take out a piece of the
bone; and that, sure enough, would have made me lame for life. But when I
got to Lourdes and had prayed a great deal to the Blessed Virgin, I went
to dip my foot in the water, wishing so much that I might be cured that I
did not even take the time to pull the bandage off. And everything
remained in the water, there was no longer anything the matter with my
foot when I took it out."

A murmur of mingled surprise, wonder, and desire arose and spread among
those who heard this marvellous tale, so sweet and soothing to all who
were in despair. But the little one had not yet finished. She had simply
paused. And now, making a fresh gesture, holding her arms somewhat apart,
she concluded: "When I got back to Vivonne and Monsieur Rivoire saw my
foot again, he said: 'Whether it be God or the Devil who has cured this
child, it is all the same to me; but in all truth she _is_ cured.'"

This time a burst of laughter rang out. The girl spoke in too recitative
a way, having repeated her story so many times already that she knew it
by heart. The doctor's remark was sure to produce an effect, and she
herself laughed at it in advance, certain as she was that the others
would laugh also. However, she still retained her candid, touching air.

But she had evidently forgotten some particular, for Sister Hyacinthe, a
glance from whom had foreshadowed the doctor's jest, now softly prompted
her "And what was it you said to Madame la Comtesse, the superintendent
of your ward, Sophie?"

"Ah! yes. I hadn't brought many bandages for my foot with me, and I said
to her, 'It was very kind of the Blessed Virgin to cure me the first day,
as I should have run out of linen on the