It was thus that Marguerite found me.
I heard her enter the room. I heard the half-exclamation, instantly checked, which came to her lips. I heard her move quietly about the chamber, arranging various little things, and at last come and stand beside my bed.
"Damoiselle!"
I turned just enough to let her see my face.
"Is Satan tempting my Damoiselle very hard just now?"
What made her ask that question?
"No, Margot," I said, sitting up, and pushing the hair off my forehead. "God is very, very cruel to me."
"Ah, let my Damoiselle hush there!" cried the old woman, in a tone of positive pain. "No, no, never! She does not mean to cut her old nurse to the heart, who loves her so dearly. But she will do it, if she says such things of the gracious Lord."
"Now, Margot, listen to me. I thought something was going to happen which would wring my heart to its very core. All night long I lay awake, praying and crying to God to stay it. And He has not heard me. He has let it happen—knowing what it would be to me. And dost thou not call that cruel?"
"Ah, I guessed right. Satan is tempting my Damoiselle, very, very hard. I thought so from her face.—Damoiselle, the good Lord cannot be cruel: it is not in His nature. No, no!"