to her; but she sent me
back again, "No; not you. Marie Renaud," she said. She gave her keys
to Marie, and, although she had never been in Sister Marie-Aimee's
room, she found the bottle of salts which Sister Marie-Aimee wanted
without any loss of time.

Madeleine soon got better, and took Bonne Neron's place. She got more
authority over us. She was still timid and submissive to Sister
Marie-Aimee, but she made up for that by shouting at us, for any reason
and no reason, that she was "there to look after us," and was "not our
servant." The day she fainted I had seen her neck. I had never dreamt
of anything so beautiful. But she was a stupid girl, and I never
minded what she said to me. That used to make her very angry. She
used to say all kinds of rude things to me, and always finished up by
calling me "Miss Princess." She could not forgive me for Sister
Marie-Aimee's affection for me, and whenever she saw the Sister kissing
me she got quite red with anger.

I began to grow, and my health was pretty good. Sister Marie-Aimee
said that she was proud of me. She used to squeeze me so tight when
she kissed me that she sometimes hurt me. Then she would say, putting
her fingers on my forehead, "My little girl; my little child." During
recreation I often used to sit near her, and listen to her reading.
She read in a deep voice, and when the people in the book displeased
her more than usual, she used to shut it up angrily, and come and play
games with us.

She wanted me to be quite faultless. She would say: "I want you to be
perfect. Do you hear, child? Perfect." One day she thought I had
told a lie. There were three cows which used to graze on some land in
the middle of which was a great big chestnut tree. The white cow was
wicked, and we were afraid of it, because it had knocked a little girl
down once. That day I saw the two red cows, and just under the
chestnut tree I saw a big black cow. I said to Ismerie:

"Look; the white cow has been sent away because she was wicked, I
expect." Ismerie, who was cross that day, screamed, and said that I
was always laughing at the others, and trying to make them believe
things which were not true. I showed her the cow. She said it was a
white one. I said, "No, it is a black one." Sister Marie-Aimee heard
us. She was very angry, and said, "How dare you say that the cow is
black?" Then the cow moved. She looked black and white now, and I
understood th