ealms
of the Blessed. Twenty-eight years went by before that happy meeting
took place.

Mother Duchesne had taken to her bed only the day before the greatly
desired visit, and no one thought that her release was so immediately at
hand. For this reason it was that Mother du Rousier, who had interrupted
pressing business to hasten to her bedside, left the same day, November
17. The following night the venerable patient was very restless. She
could not sleep, but kept repeating prayers with acts of faith, hope,
charity and contrition. Early in the succeeding forenoon, Father
Verhaegen came to give her the last Sacraments and the indulgence _in
articulo mortis_. She continued to sink visibly from hour to hour, but
kept again and again repeating her prayers with the greatest ardor until
exhaustion would compel her to stop. Then she would murmur expressions
of gratitude for the charity of Mother Hamilton and the community.
Finally, she remained for a considerable time perfectly calm and united
to God, whispering once in a while the ejaculation, "Jesus, Mary and
Joseph, I give you my heart, my soul, and my life." At last, at noon
exactly, on November 18th, 1852, her pulse ceased to beat, and all was
over.

The Religious felt that in her they had lost a treasure of holiness, a
shining model of the most heroic virtues, and they could find
consolation only in the thought that, in her also, they had henceforth a
powerful protectress in Heaven. The news of her decease spread rapidly
throughout St. Charles and the surrounding country, profoundly stirring
all hearts. "The Saint is dead!" "Oh, what a loss for us!" were the
exclamations heard on all sides. The Religious and pupils who, with
great emotion, knelt in prayer about her remains were struck with the
look of celestial serenity and happiness upon her features. Mother
Hamilton, convinced that she would one day be canonized, wished to
preserve her portrait for posterity. The only artist in the place was a
Mr. Le Faivre, who was in the last stages of tuberculosis and confined
to his bed; but such was his veneration for the holy Mother, that he had
himself dressed and carried over to the convent in an armchair. There he
took the ambrotype picture of her which is still extant, and then he was
carried home again to die a few days later.

The funeral took place on the 20th, and was attended by a vast concourse
of people from St. Louis, St. Charles, and all the country around.
Moth