Fouchette would learn all of this quite soon enough through her own observation and experience. Why needlessly embitter her present?

And this was well. Besides, the religieuse was ashamed to admit these things, as she would have been afraid to deny them, being divided between the vows of her order and her own private conscience.

Sister Agnes was a plain, honest woman of little sentiment, but this little had been curiously awakened in her breast by the coincidence of the time and place which had recalled minutely the circ.u.mstances of her own entrance to the inst.i.tution.

She had unconsciously adopted Fouchette from that moment. She mentally resolved that she would keep an eye on this child. If it could be so managed, Fouchette should come into her section. And, since the child was ignorant and ambitious, she should receive whatever advantages of instruction were to be had.

Quick to respond to this sympathy, Fouchette, on her part, mentally resolved to deserve it. She would be good and obedient, so that the sweet lady would love her and continue to kiss her. How could girls be wicked if all the women of the community of Le Bon Pasteur were like Sister Agnes?

And it would have been quite unnatural and unchildlike, owing to the marked improvement in her condition, if Fouchette had not gone to sleep forgetting her earlier disappointment.

Five years in such a place are as one year,--the same monotonous daily grind in oblivion of the great world outside,--and need not be dwelt upon here beyond a brief reference to its results upon Fouchette's character, when we must hurry the reader on to more eventful scenes.

In this life of seclusion there were three saving features in Fouchette's case. First, its worst conditions were very much better than those under which she had formerly lived; second, she had been torn from no family or friendly ties which might have weighed upon her fancy; third, but not least, there was the love of Sister Agnes.

The pet.i.te chiffonniere's ideas of life had been cast in a lowly and humble mould, so that from the beginning these new surroundings seemed highly satisfactory, if not in many respects absolutely joyous. For instance, the beds were prison beds, but they were clean and the dormitories fairly well ventilated,--luxury to one who was accustomed to sleep in a noisome cellar on filthy and envermined straw. The food was coa.r.s.e and frugal, but it was regular and almost prodigal to one habituated to disputing her breakfast with vagrant dogs. The clothes were coa.r.s.e and cheap and often shabby, but to the child of rags they were equivalent to royal gowns. The discipline was severe, but it was unadulterated kindness by the side of the brutality of the Podvin.

The society of respectable young girls of her own age, and constant contact with those who were older and of superior birth and breeding, opened up a new world to Fouchette. That these companions were more or less partakers of similar misfortunes engendered ready sympathies, though the feeling of caste was as powerful among these orphans of the State as in the Boulevard St. Germain. Tacitly acknowledging the lowly origin of the rag-heap, Fouchette was content to f.a.g, to go and come, fetch and carry, and to patiently endure the mult.i.tude of petty tyrannies put upon her. She accepted this position from the start as a matter of course.

But it was chiefly in the daily intercourse with the cheerful, ruddy-faced, and rather worldly as well as womanly Sister Agnes that Fouchette found life worth living. It was Sister Agnes who patiently instructed her in the mysteries of reading and writing and spelling and the simple rudiments of language and figures. Sister Agnes smoothed her young protegee's pathway through a sea of new difficulties. Sister Agnes had secret struggles of her own, and had worn away considerable stone before the image of the Virgin in the course of her seclusion; though precisely what the nature of her private troubles was must have been known to n.o.body else. Sister Agnes was not a favorite with the Superieure, apparently, since every time she was called before that dreaded female functionary she seemed much agitated and held longer conferences with the image of the Virgin in the little bare chapel. Whatever her mental and moral disturbances, however, Sister Agnes never faltered in her attention to Fouchette.

For the most part these were surrept.i.tious, though to the recipient there did not appear to be any reason for this concealment. As one year followed another Fouchette saw more clearly, and it caused her to redouble her exertions to please the good woman who risked the ill will of her superiors to shower kindnesses upon the otherwise friendless.

Five years to a girl of twelve brings considerable change physically as well as otherwise. The change in Fouchette was really wonderful.

She remained still rather stunted and undersized at seventeen, though face and figure had developed to her advantage. The hardness of the first had not wholly disappeared, but it was much modified, while the bones no longer showed through her dress. Her blonde hair had become abundant, and, being of peculiar fineness and sheen, lent an attractiveness to features that only a slightly tigerish fulness of cheeks prevented from being almost cla.s.sical. This feline expression of jaws became more marked when she smiled, when a rather large mouth displayed two rows of formidable teeth. The p.u.s.s.y-cat and monkey-faces are too common among the French to be called peculiar.

Her hands and feet were small, her frail body and limbs straight and supple as those of a young dancer. While she excelled at lively games in the great playground under the trees, her complexion was extremely delicate, even to paleness. Being naturally a clever imitator and always desirous of the good opinion of Sister Agnes, Fouchette had acquired graceful and lady-like manners that would have been creditable to any fashionable pension of Paris. Continuous happiness had left her light-hearted even to shallowness.

Fouchette latterly was not popular. She had been first a f.a.g and drudge, then had been withdrawn from the work-room to serve in the kitchen; from scullery-maid she had been promoted to the chambers of Sister Angelique, who was the stern right arm of the Superieure; and, finally, was transferred to the holy of holies of the Superieure herself.

All through her tractability and adaptability. She was quick to see what was wanted, and lent herself energetically to the task of performance. The good sisters encouraged her. Especially in bringing to them any stray ideas she had picked up among her companions. Sister Angelique, severe to fanaticism in all the forms of religion, early impressed upon the child the importance and imperative duty of the truth. It was not only a service to the community, but a service to the Church and to G.o.d for her to keep her superiors posted as to what was going on among the inmates of the inst.i.tution.

It was a very trivial thing at first, then more trivial things,--mere gossip of children. Then her information resulted in the cell and paddle for the unfortunate and began to be talked about on the playground and in the work-room. When she heard what had happened, Fouchette was conscience-stricken and ran to Sister Agnes for consolation. The latter was so confused and contradictory in her definition of right and wrong, as to how far one might go for Christ's sake, that Fouchette was left in doubt. And when Sister Angelique asked her for the name of the girl who committed an offence in the dormitory, Fouchette hesitated and wanted to consult Sister Agnes.

The result was that Sister Agnes was called before the Superieure, and was compelled to instruct Fouchette that whatever was required of her by those in authority was right and should be done. It is a doctrine as universal as the Christian religion.

So Fouchette told, and the tale brought to the offender five days'

diet of bread and water in a cell.

As a tale-bearer who was not afraid to tell the truth Fouchette had in the course of time ingratiated herself into the favor of Sister Angelique, and finally, as has been shown by her transfer to the governing regions, became the factotum of the Superieure. These services carried privileges.

They also brought unpopularity. On the playground Fouchette began to be avoided. In the work-room voices suddenly became hushed as she pa.s.sed. In the dormitory she began to experience coldness and hostile demonstrations.

Yet up to the present she had been suspected only. When the growing suspicion became a certainty she was a.s.saulted in the dormitory in the presence of a matron. The biggest and stoutest girl of the section pulled her from her bed in the dark and began to beat her. There was no outcry at first,--only a silent struggle on the floor.

But the stout young woman had counted too much on her physical strength and upon the supposed weakness of her frail antagonist. For Fouchette was like a cat in another respect,--she fought best on her back, where she was all hands and feet and teeth. Before the fat matron could find them between the beds the big girl was yelling for mercy and the whole section of a hundred girls was in an uproar.

"Help! help!" screamed the girl. "She's murdering me!"

"Who? Where?"

"Silence!"

"Quick! Help! She's killing me! Fouchette! It's Mademoiselle Fouchette!"

The matron was thus guided to Fouchette's bed, where she found the latter tearing the big girl's ear with her teeth, and with her hands clawing the big girl's face.

To this moment Fouchette had not uttered a word. Then she let flow a torrent of language such as had never before been heard within the sacred precincts of Le Bon Pasteur. She could no more be stopped than an avalanche.

The girls of the dormitory closed their ears in their fright at this flood of profanity.

"Stop! stop! stop!" cried the matron, now overcome with horror. "You belong in the Reformatory! You shall go to the Reformatory! You shall have the bath and the paddle, you vile vixen!"

And Fouchette's vocabulary having been exhausted for the time being, she ceased.

Meanwhile, a light was brought, and attendants came running in from the other parts of the building.

Notwithstanding the confused explanation, and the fact that the aggressor's bed was at some distance from the spot where the two were discovered, which sustained the charge of Fouchette that the latter had been first attacked, the terrible condition of the big girl was such that Fouchette was sent to a cell and held in close confinement till the next evening.

She was then taken to Sister Angelique, where she was examined as to her version of the occurrence. The victim of her nails and teeth also had a hearing.

Between the two, and considering all the circ.u.mstances, Sister Angelique came to the proper conclusion, and so reported the case to the Superieure.

The latter had Fouchette brought before her. She was a very flabby and masculine woman, of great brains and keen penetration, and invariably had an oleaginous Jesuit priest at her elbow on important occasions to strengthen her religious standing and to give her decisions the force and effect of ecclesiastical law.

"Father Sebastien," said the Superieure, "this is a grievous case.

What are we to do with these girls that fight like tigers,--that set the whole blessed inst.i.tution of Le Bon Pasteur by the ears?"

The Jesuit rubbed his hands, eying the slender figure before them curiously.

"A sad case,--a very sad case," he muttered; "and yet----"

"Mademoiselle Fouchette has been of good service to us, and----"

"And has invited this attack by her friendliness for the inst.i.tution.

No doubt,--no doubt at all," said the priest.

"But it is necessary to punish somebody," persisted the Superieure, "else we shall lose control of these hot-heads."

"How about the other one? Mademoiselle----"

"Mademoiselle Angot----"

"Yes."

"She's pretty well punished as it is. She looks as if she had been through a threshing-machine. How such a chit could----"