Lean months tested the spirit of the Training Home. Though there was nothing to eat but a plate of cabbage-soup and a potato, the cadets never murmured. "_C’est la vie apostolique_," they cheerfully said one to another. And it was easy to bear any hardship when their leader shared it with them. One who was an officer with her for years wrote: "In all things she was our example. If you wished to incur her displeasure, you had but to give her something to eat which the workers did not have. As she was in delicate health, sometimes those around her would try to get a little luxury to tempt her appetite or strengthen her. They would be met with the answer: ’Whatever is this? It is not for me, I hope, because, though it is very good of you, I did not want it, and will not have anything of the sort.’ Then she would share it all round." Whenever it became known that the exchequer was almost empty, the officers and cadets knew that this was a call to prayer. On one occasion the rents of the Rue Auber and Quai de Valmy halls were due; there was nothing to meet them; and there were but three days of grace. These were days of agony. All the officers who had anything to spare gave it. The children in the orphanage gave three francs and ten centimes. But when the best had been done, not a tithe of the necessary 3000 francs was in hand. Everybody met for prayer. The Maréchale spoke on the words, "Though the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines ... the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: yet will I rejoice in the Lord." She rang the changes on that "rejoice," asking, "Are we _there_?" Yes, they were all there—anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer with thanksgiving telling God their needs. At such times the leader of the little band felt that God had to take care of His name, His honour; He _had_ to send what was required. Who will call such a faith in question? Did not the German people say of Luther, "Look, there is the man who gets from God whatever he asks?" When the Maréchale was travelling with her secretary in a third-class carriage in the West of France, the poor people got in with their baskets of vegetables, and one of them said in a loud whisper, "Take care what you say; these people when they pray get from God all they want." To return. On the morning of the last day of grace the Maréchale received a letter from Scotland containing a draft for £100, a "God bless you," and nothing more. She never knew what kind human heart had been moved to send the letter. But she never doubted that God had sent it.