"Is my mama very ill?" she asked.

"Well ... try and get her to go to the hospital."

"Can't you cure her?"

"I hope so, but I can't give her what she'll get at the hospital. It is
foolish for her not to go. She won't go because she has to leave you.
Nothing will happen to you, for you look like a girl who can take care
of yourself."

Striding on, he reached his carriage. Perrine wanted him to say more,
but he jumped in quickly and was driven off. She returned to the wagon.

"Go quickly to the druggist; then get some eggs. Take all the money; I
must get well," said the mother.

"The doctor said he could cure you," said Perrine. "I'll go quickly for
the things."

But all the money she took was not enough. When the druggist had read
the prescription he looked at Perrine.

"Have you the money to pay for this?" he asked.

She opened her hand.

"This will come to seven francs, fifty," said the man who had already
made his calculation.

She counted what she had in her hand and found that she had six francs
eighty-five centimes, in counting the Austrian florin as two francs. She
needed thirteen sous more.

"I have only six francs eighty-five centimes. Would you take this
florin? I have counted that," she said.

"Oh, no; I should say not!" replied the man.

What was to be done? She stood in the middle of the store with her hand
open. She was in despair.

"If you'll take the florin there will be only thirteen sous lacking,"
she said at last, "and I'll bring them this afternoon."

But the druggist would not agree to this arrangement. He would neither
give her credit for thirteen sous nor accept the florin.

"As there is no hurry for the wine," he said, "you can come and fetch it
this afternoon. I'll prepare the other things at once and they'll only
cost you three francs fifty."

With the money that remained she bought some eggs, a little Vienna loaf
which she thought might tempt her mother's appetite, and then she
returned to the Field, running as fast as she could all the way.

"The eggs are fresh," she said. "I held them up to the light. And look
at the bread! Isn't it a beautiful loaf, mama? You'll eat it, won't
you?"

"Yes, darling."

Both were full of hope. Perrine had absolute faith in the doctor, and
was certain that he would perform the miracle. Why should he deceive
them? When one asks the doctor to tell the truth, doesn't he do so?

Hope had given the sick woman an appetite. She had eaten