ay we started for Naples and Pompeii. Vesuvius did us
the honour of emitting from its crater a thick volume of smoke,
accompanied by numerous loud reports. The traces of the
devastation of Pompeii are terrifying. They show forth the power
of God: "He looketh upon the earth, and maketh it tremble; He
toucheth the mountains and they smoke."

I should like to have wandered alone among its ruins, meditating
on the instability of human things, but such solitude was not to
be thought of.

At Naples we made an expedition to the monastery of San Martino;
it crowns a high hill overlooking the whole city. On the way back
the horses took the bit in their teeth, and it is solely to our
Guardian Angels that I attribute our safe return to the splendid
hotel. This word "splendid" is not too strong to describe it; in
fact during the whole journey we stayed only at the most expansive
hotels. I had never been surrounded by such luxury, but it is
indeed a true saying that riches do not make happiness. I should
have been a thousand times more contented under a thatched room,
with the hope of entering the Carmel, than I was amid marble
staircases, gilded ceilings, and silken hangings, with my heart
full of sorrow.

I realised thoroughly that joy is not found in the things which
surround us, but lives only in the soul. One could possess it as
well in an obscure prison as in the palace of a king. And so now I
am happier at the Carmel, in the midst of trials within and
without, than I was in the world where I had everything I wanted,
and, above all, the joys of a happy home.

Although I felt heavy of heart, outwardly I was as usual, for I
thought no one had any knowledge of my petition to the Pope. I was
mistaken. One day, when the other pilgrims had gone to the
refreshment-room and Celine and I were alone, Mgr. Legoux came to
the door of the carriage. He looked at me attentively and smiling
said: "Well, and how is our little Carmelite?" This showed me that
my secret was known to all the pilgrims, and I gathered it, too,
from their kindly looks; but happily no one spoke to me on the
subject.

At Assisi I had a little adventure. While visiting the places
sanctified by the virtues of St. Francis and St. Clare I lost the
buckle of my belt in the monastery. It took me some time to find
and put it back in place, and when I reached the door all the
carriages had started except one; that belonged to the
Vicar-General of Bayeux! Should I run