me Truc, who dabbled in physic,
and of her she bought, as if for her youngest brother, an ointment to
burn away the sores.

She would have thought herself guilty of a great sin, if she had not
told everything to Girard. So, however fearful she might be of
displeasing and disgusting him, she spoke of this matter also. Looking
at the wounds, he began playing his comedy, rebuked her attempt to
heal them, and thus set herself against God. They were the marks, he
said, of Heaven. Falling on his knees, he kissed the wounds on her
feet. She crossed herself in self-abasement, struggled long-time
against such a belief. Girard presses and scolds, makes her show him
her side, and looks admiringly at the wound. "I, too," he said, "have
a wound; but mine is within."

And now she is fain to believe in herself as a living miracle. Her
acceptance of a thing so startling was greatly quickened by the fact,
that Sister Remusat was just then dead. She had seen her in glory, her
heart borne upward by the angels. Who was to take her place on earth?
Who should inherit her high gifts, the heavenly favours wherewith she
had been crowned? Girard offered her the succession, corrupting her
through her pride.

From that time she was changed. In her vanity she set down every
natural movement within her as holy. The loathings, the sudden starts
of a woman great with child, of all which she knew nothing, were
accounted for as inward struggles of the Spirit. As she sat at table
with her family on the first day of Lent, she suddenly beheld the
Saviour, who said, "I will lead thee into the desert, where thou shalt
share with Me all the love and all the suffering of the holy Forty
Days." She shuddered for dread of the suffering she must undergo. But
still she would offer up her single self for a whole world of sinners.
Her visions were all of blood; she had nothing but blood before her
eyes. She beheld Jesus like a sieve running blood. She herself began
to spit blood, and lose it in other ways. At the same time her nature
seemed quite changed. The more she suffered, the more amorous she
grew. On the twentieth day of Lent she saw her name coupled with that
of Girard. Her pride, raised and quickened by these new sensations,
enabled her to comprehend the _special sway_ enjoyed by Mary, the
Woman, with respect to God. She felt _how much lower angels are_ than
the least of saints, male or female. She saw the Palace of Glory, and
mistook herself for the Lam