Indeed, Madame was not merely _looking "très fatiguée"_ in these days. The world's vitality and her own were at sad January ebb. But to think of oneself was quite impossible, of course; it would be all right presently, and one must not fuss, or mention in one's letters to the dear children that one felt at all poorly. As for a doctor--that would be sinful waste, and besides, what use were they except to tell you what you knew? So she was terribly vexed when Augustine found her in a faint one morning, and she found Augustine in tears, with her hair all over her face. She rated the girl soundly, but feebly, for making such a fuss over "a little thing like that," and with extremely trembling fingers pushed the brown hair back and told her to wash her face, while the parrot said reflectively: "Scratch a poll--Hullo!" The girl who had seen her own grandmother die not long before, and remembered how "_fatiguée_" she had been during her last days, was really frightened. Coming back after she had washed her face, she found her mistress writing on a number of little envelopes the same words: "_En bonne Amitié._" She looked up at the girl standing so ominously idle, and said: "Take this hundred-franc note, Augustine, and go and get it changed into single francs--the ironmonger will do it if you say it's for me. I am going to take a rest. I sha'n't buy anything for the bag for a whole week. I shall just take francs instead." "Oh, _Madame!_ You must not go out: _vous êtes trop fatiguée_." "Nonsense! How do you suppose our dear little Queen in England would get on with all she has to do, if she were to give in like that? We must none of us give up in these days. Help me to put on my things; I am going to church, and then I shall take a long rest before we go to the hospital." "Oh, _Madame!_ Must you go to church? It is not your kind of church. You do not pray there, do you?" "Of course I pray there. I am very fond of the dear old church. God is in every church, Augustine; you ought to know that at your age." "But _Madame_ has her own religion?" "Now, don't be silly. What does that matter? Help me into my cloth coat--not the fur--it's too heavy--and then go and get that money changed." "But _Madame_ should see a doctor. If _Madame_ faints again I shall die with fright. _Madame_ has no colour--but no colour at all; it must be that there is something wrong." _Madame_ rose, and taking the girl's ear between thumb and finger pinched it gently. "You are a very silly girl. What would our poor soldiers do if all the nurses were like you?"