Marie Claire | Page 9

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-Aim��e'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-Aim��e 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 Ism��rie:
"Look; the white cow has been sent away because she was wicked, I expect." Ism��rie, 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-Aim��e 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 that I had made a mistake because of the shadow of the chestnut tree. I was so surprised that I could not find anything to say. I did not know how to explain it. Sister Marie-Aim��e shook me. "Why did you tell a lie?" she said. I answered that I did not know. She sent me into a corner in the shed, and told me that I should have nothing but bread and water that day. As I had not told a lie, the punishment did not worry me. The shed had a lot of old cupboards in it, and some garden tools. I climbed from one thing on to the other, and got right up and sat on the top of the highest cupboard. I was ten years old, and it was the first time that I had ever been alone. I felt pleased at this. I sat there, swinging my legs, and began to imagine a whole invisible world. The old cupboard with rusty locks became the entrance gate to a magnificent palace. I was a little girl who had been left on the top of a mountain. A beautiful lady dressed like a fairy had seen me up there, and came to fetch me. Three or four lovely ducks ran in front of her. They had just come up to me when I saw Sister Marie-Aim��e standing in front of the cupboard with the rusty locks and looking about for me everywhere. I did not know that I was sitting on the cupboard. I still believed myself to be on the top of the mountain, and I felt cross because Sister Marie-Aim��e's arrival had made the palace and the lovely lady disappear. She saw my legs swinging, and just as she saw me I remembered that I was sitting on the cupboard. She stood there for a moment looking up at me. Then she took a piece of bread, a piece of sausage, and a little bottle of wine out of the pocket of her dress, showed me one thing after the other, and in an angry voice said, "This was for you. There!" And she put it all back into her pocket and went away. A moment afterwards Madeleine brought me some bread and water, and I remained in the shed till evening.

Sister Marie-Aim��e had been growing sadder and sadder for some time. She never played with us any more, and