It is remorse for not having in the first instance come and humbled myself at that Grotto, bringing my two dear ones with me.

They would have knelt there like those women whom you see, I should have knelt beside them, and perhaps the Blessed Virgin would have cured and preserved them.

But, fool that I was, I only knew how to lose them! It is my fault." Tears were now streaming from his eyes.

"I remember," he continued, "that in my childhood at Bartres, my mother, a peasant woman, made me join my hands and implore God's help each morning.

The prayer she taught me came back to my mind, word for word, when I again found myself alone, as weak, as lost, as a little child.