If any one thinks, however, that we, who were under the shelter of the roof of La Clairiere were less tried than our husbands, it is a mistake; our chief grief was that we were parted from them, not knowing what suffering, what exposure they might have to bear, and knowing that they would not accept, as most of us were willing to accept, the interpretation of the mystery; but there was a certain comfort in the fact that we had to be very busy, preparing a little food to take to them, and feeding the others.  La Clairiere is a little country house, not a great chateau, and it was taxed to the utmost to afford some covert to the people.  The children were all sheltered and cared for; but as for the rest of us we did as we could.  And how gay they were, all the little ones!  What was it to them all that had happened?  It was a fete for them to be in the country, to be so many together, to run in the fields and the gardens.  Sometimes their laughter and their happiness were more than we could bear.  Agathe de Bois-Sombre, who takes life hardly, who is more easily deranged than I, was one who was much disturbed by this.  But was it not to preserve the children that we were commanded to go to La Clairiere?  Some of the women also were not easy to bear with.  When they were put into our rooms they too found it a fete, and sat down among the children, and ate and drank, and forgot what it was; what awful reason had driven us out of our homes.  These were not, oh let no one think so! the majority; but there were some, it cannot be denied; and it was difficult for me to calm down Bonne Maman, and keep her from sending them away with their babes.  ’But they are miserables,’ she said.  ’If they were to wander and be lost, if they were to suffer as thou sayest, where would be the harm?  I have no patience with the idle, with those who impose upon thee.’  It is possible that Bonne Maman was right—­but what then?  ’Preserve the children and the sick,’ was the mission that had been given to me.  My own room was made the hospital.  Nor did this please Bonne Maman.  She bid me if I did not stay in it myself to give it to the Bois-Sombres, to some who deserved it.  But is it not they who need most who deserve most?  Bonne Maman cannot bear that the poor and wretched should live in her Martin’s chamber.  He is my Martin no less.  But to give it up to our Lord is not that to sanctify it?  There are who have put Him into their own bed when they imagined they were but sheltering a sick beggar there; that He should have the best was sweet to me:  and could not I pray all the better that our Martin should be enlightened, should come to the true sanctuary?  When I said this Bonne Maman wept.  It was the grief of her heart that Martin thought otherwise than as we do.  Nevertheless she said, ‘He is so good; the bon Dieu knows how good he is;’ as if even his mother could know that so well as I!