Letter from Mrs. Martin CF 91
To Mrs Guerin
Maundy Thursday, April 10, 1873.
I thought every day of telling you about Marie's illness, I had resolved to wait until Sunday, supposing that you had already enough torment without that one.
I will therefore tell you that Marie arrived on Saturday evening with M. Vital Romet; she had only been in the boarding school infirmary since Thursday, but she had been suffering for four days without complaining. The doctor at the Visitation in Le Mans thought it would be nothing and said there was no need to send her away, but my sister thought it safer to send her to me on Saturday.
If she had waited another day, Marie would not have been able to bear the journey. At eight o'clock the next day, I saw the doctor who immediately feared typhoid fever.
I give my little patient broth which has a hard time passing. This night was very bad, she was delirious until three o'clock in the morning, she asked me to remove a lump that was on her pillow; then reason returned to him; she said to me: "I take my head for a ball, it seems to me that I have a head of wood." Since then, she has been quite calm, she sleeps frequently. When the fever left her, she looked like a corpse, she could no longer stand up, or even get out of bed.
Although she was not very bad on Saturday evening, when she arrived, I was struck in the heart. I cannot get out of my mind that she will die of it, I have been worrying about her future for a long time; she is a child of an extraordinary tenderness of heart. She still couldn't get used to boarding school, she couldn't bear the deprivation of not seeing us, she told me things about it that break my heart.
I do everything I can to console her and make her hope for her speedy recovery. Yesterday, I told her that she would be the one who would take care of the house and raise her little sisters when I died. I had a lot of trouble talking to her about this, she only cried, she can't get used to the idea that I will die before her. I'm very afraid that the good Lord will grant his wishes.
It was agreed that Pauline would not come for the Easter holidays; I asked the doctor what he thought of it. He told me that I could have her here, on the condition that I did not let her go to her sister's room, that way there was no danger. Either way, she has to come. Marie could not be consoled to know her sister was all alone there, there were continual tears, as long as it was a question of Pauline remaining in the convent.
Now she laments because "little Paulin", as her father often calls him, will leave without her, and she is convinced that this will cause her great sorrow.
I said to him the day before yesterday: “Since you can't get used to the Visitation, you won't go back. She replied immediately: “Oh! I want to go back there, my poor aunt would have too much trouble. »
Finally, let's hope that the good Lord will not allow such a great ordeal as losing this child. My husband is sorry; he doesn't leave the house anymore, he became a nurse this morning, because I was forced, today Thursday, to receive my workers all morning and he replaced me. But it makes him sick to hear her moan and takes all his courage away from him.
Farewell, my dear friend, pray for us, so that if the good God requires such a sacrifice, we may have the strength to bear it.
Marie did her Easter on Tuesday morning. She took communion, at half past five, in perfect dispositions and with an angelic expression.
