Virginia had congestion of the lungs; perhaps it was desperate.
"Not yet," said the physician, and both got into the carriage,
while the snow fell in thick flakes. It was almost night and very
cold.
Felicite rushed to the church to light a candle. Then she ran
after the coach which she overtook after an hour's chase, sprang
up behind and held on to the straps. But suddenly a thought
crossed her mind: "The yard had been left open; supposing that
burglars got in!" And down she jumped.
The next morning, at daybreak, she called at the doctor's. He had
been home, but had left again. Then she waited at the inn,
thinking that strangers might bring her a letter. At last, at
daylight she took the diligence for Lisieux.
The convent was at the end of a steep and narrow street. When she
arrived about at the middle of it, she heard strange noises, a
funeral knell. "It must be for some one else," thought she; and
she pulled the knocker violently.
After several minutes had elapsed, she heard footsteps, the door
was half opened and a nun appeared. The good sister, with an air
of compunction, told her that "she had just passed away." And at
the same time the tolling of Saint-Leonard's increased.
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