at the vital cords. Sweet and gentle words
of encouragement ever flowed from his lips. With eye and finger ever
turning towards heaven, whither his own soul yearned, he calmed the
anxious and penitent spirit of Alvira, who still feared her repentance
was incomplete.

She received Holy Communion every day from the hands of her brother.

What ecstasies of grateful love filled her breast when preparing for
those blissful moments of union with our Blessed Lord! Deep and
eloquent the mysterious breathings of the pure, loving heart. It has
a language known and understood only by angels. As the sun melts the
rocky iceberg, the coldest heart melts under the loving, burning
Sun of the most Holy Eucharist.

At length the bark is anchored in the port of rest; Alvira is summoned
to her crown.

The midnight of July 16, 1717, finds her in her agony; the blest candle
is lighted; the faithful brother priest is kneeling by her bed; the
solemn wail of the privileged few of the grateful poor is carried in
mournful cadence from the chamber of death.

Yet the bell has not tolled the third stroke of consolation. Could
she have misunderstood the prophetic voice of her sainted Father
Francis, who knew the secrets of God in her behalf? But no; the favor
will come--the last crowning, ineffable favor will come; it is at hand.

Alvira has opened her eyes. She calls her brother near; with a smile,
the sweetest that ever lit up those expressive features, she told him
what the favor would be. Father Francis and the Blessed Virgin would
see her before she should die.

Pere Augustin believes the shock of approaching dissolution has weakened
her reasoning faculty; he gently chides her, whispers some sweet
thought of humility, and breathes the holy name that banishes
temptation.

But, lo! Alvira's features have changed; a glow of ecstatic beauty
has suffused around her; the light of another land is shed on her
couch. Recognition is read on her looks.

Pere Augustin, whose innocence and virtue entitled him to understand
the privileges of the saints, saw the splendor of a heavenly light
that filled the room, and heard from Alvira's lips expressions that
left no doubt on his mind of the promised visit of celestial beings.

The light faded, and from the feeble glare of the candle of death he
saw the holy spirit of his sister had fled; the sweetness of heavenly
joy still played on her marble features, and the smile that greeted
the hea