“Play the heads are here!” she murmured. “Play they are smiling at me:
“Matthew, Mark, Luke and John,
Bless the bed that I lie on!”
Honor was sleepy enough next morning after her vigil; but the thought of what she had to do soon roused her. She ran into Maria’s room, hairbrush in hand; it was not permitted, but she could explain; the Sister would understand.
“Hush! listen!” she cried. “Don’t come out in the garden after breakfast, Maria! Come straight back here, and wait till I come for you. It will be all right, see if it isnt!”
Poor Maria, her eyes swollen with weeping, gave her a look of such dog-like devotion and gratitude that Honor could only give her a pat in return, and hurry away. Her heart was beating high. It was a shame; but they had not known; they had not understood; in a little hour now, all would be well.
How slow they were at breakfast! It seemed as if the meal would never end. Nobody looked at Maria; none of the girls at least. Soeur Séraphine cast a keen glance at her swollen, discolored face; one, and then another; but said nothing. Madame called from the head of the table, “Marie, thou dost not eat, my child! How then! It is necessary to eat; finish at least thy little bread!”
Maria crumbled her roll, and made a pretence of eating.
“Tiens!” said Soeur Séraphine. “The child is without appetite, my sister. I myself will give her a cup of tea presently. That encourages the stomach.”