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I should think so! said Honor. Why, I never saw anything so lovely. What are the flowers?
Edelweiss and alpenrosen ; they are my flowers. But now let mademoiselle eat, lest her breakfast cool! I return shortly.
Honor ate her breakfast with right good will, enjoying every mouthful as a healthy girl should. Between bites and sups, she exchanged morning greetings with the mountains, which showed as friendly a face as the night before, though no rosy veil softened their morning splendor of white and green.
Did you bring me the tisane last night, Royal Highness? said Honor. Or was it really Gretli? She looked quite as big, you know! Are any of your mountain ladies as handsome as she is? Wouldnt they look funny in blue skirts and black bodices? How many yards do you suppose it would take
A light cloud-shadow drifted over the shining face of the Dent du Midi ; it was as if he said, Dont talk nonsense, child!
Honor accepted the rebuke, and devoted herself to her honey and rolls.
By and by came Gretli again to inspect the ankle. It was better, but still swollen and painful. After examining it carefully, the good giantess vanished, and presently reappeared, carrying carefully a glass bowl in which were two black objects about two inches long. At first sight Honor thought they were stones or bits of black wood: but looking carefully at them, she saw one move.
Gretli! she cried. They are alive! What hideous, horrible creatures! Take them away, please!
In truth they are alive! Gretli nodded contentedly. Have no fear of them, Mademoiselle. They are good creatures, and understand their business well. See how your ankle is swollen, is it not? I apply my good little sangsue (leech), and in a few moments but mademoiselle will see! and without more ado she clapped first one leech and then the other on the offending ankle.
Honor shrieked aloud at the touch of the cold, clammy creatures; shrieked louder still when they applied themselves, in a quiet but efficient way, to the work in hand. The two shrieks rent the air; startled the browsing goats outside, brought Zitli to his feet in the outer room, to see what was the matter. Looking up, in the act of opening her mouth for a third, Honor saw Gretlis face of demure amazement, and stopped short.
Why why do you look at me like that? she faltered. They are horrible and disgusting, and they hurt me! I never heard of anything so dreadful!
Is it so? Gretli spoke gravely. Mademoiselle is young. There are many things more dreadful than a sangsue , which was made by the Divine Hand, and given for the use of man. Mademoiselle observes that we live upon a mountain, where physicians do not abound; thus, we employ the remedies that Nature imparted to our fathers, and are thankful. To the montagnard , the sangsue is a good friend. Zitli went before daybreak to the little pond to bring these fresh and lively for mademoiselle.
Honor blushed scarlet, and hung her head.
I am sorry! she murmured. It it was very kind of Zitli. Dont tell him, please, Gretli! I am so ashamed!
Assuredly, no! Gretli was her own beaming self again; a slight shake of her head as she glanced toward the door warned Zitli to make no sound; he vanished silently.
Friend sangsue is not beautiful! she admitted cheerfully. Also, he surprised mademoiselle. I should have explained in advance but in that case mademoiselle might not have permitted; so all is well, and now I remove these gentlemen, who have breakfasted to hearts content voilà! Back to your bowl, messieurs! Now a little massage, and we shall see!
Wonderful massage that, with the strong, supple fingers! The pain seemed to melt away under them. When it was over, and the ankle firmly bound in bandages of strong homespun linen (no gauze in mountain châlets!) Honor declared it felt almost entirely well.
I believe I could walk on it! May I try, Gretli?
On no account,
Mademoiselle! It is great happiness to have relieved you of the pain, but for strength, time and patience are required. It will be several days before mademoiselle can stand on that foot; meantime behold her conveyance.
She held out her massive brown arms with a delightful smile. Ten minutes later, Honor was reclining, well propped with pillows, on the seat that ran the length of the broad window in the living room. Her lame ankle, swathed in its bandages, contrasted oddly with her other foot in its stout little walking shoe. Honor had pretty feet. Stephanie admired them greatly (her own feet being large and flat) and was constantly praising them. Soeur Séraphine heard her one day, and said gravely that both girls should be simply thankful that their feet were not deformed.
It would have been fully as easy for the good God to give you club feet, she reminded them, and it is through no merit of yours that this was not ordained. If a foot is good to walk on, that is all we should ask of it.
The Sister walked away up the allée . Stephanie, shrugging her shoulders, pointed at the footprint she left on the white sand.