For the first time in my life I shed tears of sorrow and of anger, when I heard my companions scoffing at me.

The poor wretches shared my unhappy condition, but they were used to it, and that makes all the difference.
Sorely depressed, I went to school, but only to sleep soundly through the morning.

One of my comrades, in the hope of turning the affair into ridicule at my expense, told the doctor the reason of my being so sleepy.
The good priest, however, to whom without doubt Providence had guided me, called me into his private room, listened to all I had to say, saw with his own eyes the proofs of my misery, and moved by the sight of the blisters which disfigured my innocent skin, he took up his cloak, went with me to my boarding-house, and shewed the woman the state I was in.
She put on a look of great astonishment, and threw all the blame upon the servant.

The doctor being curious to see my bed, I was, as much as he was, surprised at the filthy state of the sheets in which I had passed the night.

The accursed woman went on blaming the servant, and said that she would discharge her; but the girl, happening to be close by, and not relishing the accusation, told her boldly that the fault was her own, and she then threw open the beds of my companions to shew us that they did not experience any better treatment.