did not leave her till I had performed this last
service. She was much touched by this attention on my part, for
she had not expressed any wish on the subject; it was by this
unsought-for kindness that I gained her entire confidence, and
chiefly because--as I learnt later--at the end of my humble task
I bestowed upon her my sweetest smile.

Dear Mother, it is long since all this happened, but Our Lord
allows the memory of it to linger with me like a perfume from
Heaven. One cold winter evening, I was occupied in the lowly work
of which I have just spoken, when suddenly I heard in the distance
the harmonious strains of music outside the convent walls. I
pictured a drawing-room, brilliantly lighted and decorated, and
richly furnished. Young ladies, elegantly dressed, exchanged a
thousand compliments, as is the way of the world. Then I looked on
the poor invalid I was tending. Instead of sweet music I heard her
complaints, instead of rich gilding I saw the brick walls of our
bare cloister, scarcely visible in the dim light. The contrast was
very moving. Our Lord so illuminated my soul with the rays of
truth, before which the pleasures of the world are but as
darkness, that for a thousand years of such worldly delights, I
would not have bartered even the ten minutes spent in my act of
charity.

If even now, in days of pain and amid the smoke of battle, the
thought that God has withdrawn us from the world is so entrancing,
what will it be when, in eternal glory and everlasting repose, we
realise the favour beyond compare He has done us here, by singling
us out to dwell in His Carmel, the very portal of Heaven?

I have not always felt these transports of joy in performing acts
of charity, but at the beginning of my religious life Jesus wished
to make me feel how sweet to Him is charity, when found in the
hearts of his Spouses. Thus when I led Sister St. Peter, it was
with so much love that I could not have shown more were I guiding
Our Divine Lord Himself.

The practice of charity has not always been so pleasant as I have
just pointed out, dear Mother, and to prove it I will recount some
of my many struggles.

For a long time my place at meditation was near a Sister who
fidgeted continually, either with her Rosary, or something else;
possibly, as I am very quick of hearing, I alone heard her, but I
cannot tell you how much it tried me. I should have liked to turn
round, and by looking at the offender, make her stop th