The girl sat on the side of the cot, her lips pressed to a small moue. She had a round, pale face and large blue eyes. Her black hair was center-parted and neatly combed behind her wimple.
When she didn't answer or move, Gisele stopped struggling. "Who are you?" she asked finally, meeting the girl's beautiful eyes.
She smile gently. "My name is Eden," she said. "I've come to give you some food, Gisele. You've been unconscious for two days. You've lost a lot of blood and will be weak for a long time to come." Lightly she pressed her hand over Gisele's which lay bandaged and still on the cot. "Why did you do what you did?" she asked in a slow, pained voice. Her eyes were so large and innocent that Gisele began to wonder if she had ever encountered a patient who had attempted suicide.
Gisele met her blue gaze unflinchingly. "Because I wanted to be with him," she said in a tight, emotionless voice. "I will be with him. I will find a way."
Eden shook her head wonderingly.
"Why don't you have a nun name?" Gisele asked.
"I'm only a novice," Eden said. "When I have taken my vows, I will be Sister Eden." She smiled gently and patted Gisele's hand and, illogically, Gisele felt reassured by the girl. Her voice was light and soothing, and she seemed so different from everything Gisele had experienced in the past weeks, that she took comfort in her. Eden became her name in that quiet silence, as Gisele mused on her comforting tone and touch.
"Was he killed in the war?" Eden asked.
"Of course," Gisele said dully. "How else? He didn't want to go. I didn't want him to. I hate this country, this world. I want to die." Her voice rose in volume and she pounded her fists on the cot as well as she could, since they were strapped down. She felt a quiver of pain in her left wrist as she did so and realized that the wound was still raw.
"You can't take your own life, Gisele," Eden said, pressing her hands together before her chest, fingertips up. As she did so, she resembled a Madonna icon to Gisele's dazed vision. "It's a sin. Be still, Gisele, be calm. In the coming weeks, you will find a reason to live, if you let the spirit into your life."
I finished Marion Harland's guide tonight and I wonder ceaselessly at two things. 1. She is so down on America! Even more than I am. She complains of things in which I am so well-steeped I could not see them for what they were. In particular, American style and cookery. It is true that our food, which we count as so much more generous in portion than the overseas counterpart, is as coarse and indecorous as it is plentiful, but as an American woman I cast up my hands and declare I would rather spend my time on something else. She makes an interesting point about American women's fashions. In France women wear what looks good on them, and in America women wears what comes off the manufacturing line in the latest style. It is very conformist, and I have to admit I feel it in myself, for I would be embarrassed to wear something that is "out" even if it flattered me better. 2. Harland's other point I feel clearly from last night's experiences. I looked in my journ...