But her face cleared now, and stayed so.
"It has all been a mix and a muddle," she answered; "and it hurt my poor head, M'sieu' le Cure, but now I think I under stand.

I am not afraid; I will confess." The Cure had made it clear to her that she could carry to her grave the secret of the little cross and the work it had done, and so keep her word and still not injure her chances of salvation.

She was content.
She no longer needed the helpful presence of M'sieu' or Rosalie.

Charley instinctively felt what was in her mind, and came towards the bed.
"I will tell Mademoiselle Rosalie about the tea," he said to her.
She looked up at him, almost smiling.

"Thank you, good M'sieu'," she said.
"I will confess now, M'sieu' le Cure" she continued.