第23章献给佑兰的玫瑰RosesforYolande
加布里艾尔·罗伊GabrielleRoy
Whydidthememoryofthatdeadchildseekmeoutoifulday?Tillthen，nointimationofsorrowhadethroughthedazzliionsofasummerthatsang。
Ithappenedmanyyearsago。IhadjustarrivedinasmallvillageinManitoba，ada，tofinishtheschoolyearasreplatforateacherwhohadfallenillorsimply，forallIknew，beedisced。
&imeesforyoutoapplyforapermaion，”theprincipalofthenormalschoolhadtoldme，“You'llbeabletosaythatyou'vehadexperience。”
AndsoIfoundmyselfinspringinthatverype-justafewshacks，withnothingaroundbutspindlirees。“Amonth，”Iaskedmyself，“willthatbeloobeeattachedtothe?Willamoheeffort?”
&hesamecalwasinthemindsofthe，forIhadneverseenfacessodejected，soapatheticorperhapssorrowful。Ihadhadsolittleexperience。Imyselfwashardlymorethanachild。
Nineo'e。TheroomwashotasaimesinManitobaanitlesinduridaysofJune。
Sowiobegiendandcalledtheroll。ThehemostpartFrendtodaytheystillreturntomymemory，likethis，fornoreason:MadeleineBerube，JosephatBrisset，EmilienDumont，Cee。。。
Butmostofthewhoroseandanswered“Present，mamzelle”，whentheirnameswerecalledhadtheslightlynarrowedeyes，warmga-blackhairthattoldofmetisblood。
Theywerebeautifulaelypolite;therewasreallynothihemforexcepttheinceivabledistaaihemselvesacrushedme。“Isthiswhatarelike，then，”Iaskedmyselfwithanguish，“untouchable，barrisionwhereyou'treachthem?”
IeYolarand。
Nooneanswered。Irepeatedthenameaherewasstillnoanswer，Ilookedupatfacesthatseemedtomepletelyi。
&hebackofthe，abovethebuzzingofflies，aroseavoip;apos;tplaceatfirst。“She'sdead，mamzelle。Shediedlastnight。”
Perhapseveressingthahecalm，leveltohechild'svoice。
“Ah，”Isaid，lostforwords。
Welookedatoherinsilenceftime，theandI。hattheexpressiohatIhadtakenforindifferencewasaheavysadness。
“Sinde。。。wasyoursate。。。wouldyoulike。。。afterschoolatfouro'cloandvisither?”
Onthesmall，muchtooseriousfacesthereappearedthetrailes，wary，stillsad，butsmilesjustthesame。
AtfirstpastfourIfoundmostofthemwaitihedood20，butmakihaniftheywerebeierschool。Severalofthemweoshowmetheway。Otherspressedaroundmesoclosely。Icouldscarcelymove。Fiveorsixofthesmalleroookmebythehandandpulledmefentlyasiftheywereleadingabliheydidnottalk，merelyheldmeeheircircle。
&her，inthisway，wecametoawoodendinginisolationamongthirees。Itsdooren，sowewereabletoseethedeadeintheroomfromquitefaroff。Shehadbeenlaidhboardssuspe>
&shadundoubtedlydoheycouldfortheirchild。Theyhadcoveredherwithasheet。Hermother，probably，hadarrangedherhairiwhtbraidsthatframedthethisneedhadsentthemaurchaseofatown，orafewmoreboardstomakeherohemselves。
Thechildhadadelicatelittleface，verywasted，withtheseriousexpressiohefaostofthehere，asifthecaresoftheadultshadcrushedthemalltooearly。Shemighthavebeen10or11yearsold。
Thewerewatgme。IrealizedtheyedeverythihoughIdidn'tknowmuchmorethahenIhadasortofinspiration。
“Don'tyouthinkYolandewouldliketohavesomeohheralwaystillthetimeithertotheground?”
ThefacesofthetoldmeIhadstrucktherightnote。
“os;lltaketurnsthen，fourorfivearouwohours，untilthefubeottoletthefliestouchherface。”
Theyagreedwithaglowintheirdarkeyes。Standingarouheyrustinmesopleteitterrifiedme。
Inagamoreesashortdistanceaway，Inoticedabright-pinkstainonthegroundwhosesour'tyetknow。Thesu，makingitflame，theohisdaythathadbeentouchedbyagrace。
“Whatsirlwasshe?”Iasked。
Atfirstthedidn'tuhenaboyofaboutthesameagesaidwithtenderseriousness，“Shewassmart，Yolande。”
“Anddidshedowellinschool?”
“Shedidn'teveryoftenthisyear。Shewasalwaysbei。”
“OurteacherbeforelastsaidYolandecouldhavedonewell。”
“WhatdidYolandedieof?”
“Tuberzelle，”theyrepliedwithasihiswasthearywayfortodiearoundhere。
Theywereeagertotalkabouthernow。Ihadsuopeledoorsdeepwithinooneperhapshadevermutedtoseeopeoldmemovingfactsaboutherbrieflife。“Onedayonherwayhomefromschool-itwasFebruary。”“No，”saidanother，“inMarch-shehadlostherreaderainsolablyforweeks。Tostudyherlesso，shehadtoborrowabookfromohers，”-andIsawonthefaeofthemthatthey&apedlendingtheirreadersandwouldalwaysregretthis。“Nothavingadressforheration，shehadpleadedtillhermotherfinallymadeheroheonlythehouse-theohisroom。。。abeautifulla，mamzelle。”
“AnddidYolandelookprettyiaindress?”Iasked。
Theyallheireyesthememoryofapleasantimage。