igned
to the pilgrim that he must rise and pass on to the adjoining room
to make way for those who followed.

No one uttered a word, but I was firmly determined to speak, when
suddenly the Vicar-General of Bayeux, Father Reverony, who was
standing at the Pope's right hand, told us in a loud voice that he
absolutely forbade anyone to address the Holy Father. My heart
beat fast. I turned to Celine, mutely inquiring what I should do.
"Speak!" she said.

The next moment I found myself on my knees before the Holy Father.
I kissed his foot and he held out his hand; then raising my eyes,
which were filled with tears, I said entreatingly: "Holy Father, I
have a great favour to ask you." At once he bent towards me till
his face almost touched mine, and his piercing black eyes seemed
to read my very soul. "Holy Father," I repeated, "in honour of
your jubilee, will you allow me to enter the Carmel when I am
fifteen?"

The Vicar-General, surprised and displeased, said quickly: "Holy
Father, this is a child who desires to become a Carmelite, but the
Superiors of the Carmel are looking into the matter." "Well, my
child," said His Holiness, "do whatever the Superiors decide."
Clasping my hands and resting them on his knee, I made a final
effort: "Holy Father, if only you say 'yes,' everyone else would
agree."

He looked at me fixedly and said clearly and emphatically: "Well,
well! You will enter if it is God's Will." I was going to speak
again, when the Noble Guards motioned to me. As I paid little
attention they came forward, the Vicar-General with them, for I
was still kneeling before the Pope with my hands resting on his
knee. Just as I was forced to rise, the dear Holy Father gently
placed his hand on my lips, then lifted it to bless me, letting
his eyes follow me for quite a long time.

My Father was much distressed to find me coming from the audience
in tears; he had passed out before me, and so did not know
anything about my request. The Vicar-General had shown him unusual
kindness, presenting him to Leo XIII as the father of two
Carmelites. The Sovereign Pontiff, as a special sign of
benevolence, had placed his hand on his head, thus appearing in
the name of Christ Himself to mark him with a mysterious seal. But
now that this father of _four_ Carmelites is in Heaven, it is no
longer the hand of Christ's Vicar which rests on his brow,
prophesying his martyrdom: it is the hand of the Spouse of
Virgins, of the King of H