Long ago transformed by admiration, she was now transfigured by compassion.

Seated at the feet of him whom she loved with more than earthly love she felt the soreness of his soul, and the failing of his heart.

After that, what did it matter that Francis's tears became more abundant to the point of making him blind for a fortnight?
Soothing would come; the sister of consolation would give him peace once more.
And first she kept him near her, and, herself taking part in the labor, she made him a large cell of reeds in the monastery garden, that he might be entirely at liberty as to his movements.
How could he refuse a hospitality so thoroughly Franciscan?
It was indeed only too much so: legions of rats and mice infested this retired spot; at night they ran over Francis's bed with an infernal uproar, so that he could find no repose from his sufferings.

But he soon forgot all that when near his sister-friend.

Once again she gave back to him faith and courage.