atigue, the novice, who
loved her dearly, burst into tears, and begged leave to obtain her
some little reprieve. But the young novice-mistress strictly
forbade her, saying that she was quite able to bear this slight
fatigue on the day on which Jesus had suffered and died.

Soon a persistent cough made the Mother Prioress feel anxious; she
ordered Soeur Therese a more strengthening diet, and the cough
ceased for some time. "Truly sickness is too slow a liberator,"
exclaimed our dear little Sister, "I can only rely upon Love."

She was strongly tempted to respond to the appeal of the
Carmelites of Hanoi, who much desired to have her, and began a
novena to the Venerable Theophane Venard[4] to obtain her cure,
but alas! that novena proved but the beginning of a more serious
phase of her malady.

Like her Divine Master, she passed through the world doing good;
like Him, she had been forgotten and unknown, and now, still
following in His Footsteps, she was to climb the hill of Calvary.
Accustomed to see her always suffering, yet always joyous and
brave, Mother Prioress, doubtless inspired by God, allowed her to
take part in the Community exercises, some of which tired her
extremely. At night, she would courageously mount the stairs
alone, pausing at each step to take breath. It was with difficulty
that she reached her cell, and then in so exhausted a state, that
sometimes, as she avowed later, it took her quite an hour to
undress. After all this exertion it was upon a hard pallet that
she took her rest. Her nights, too, were very bad, and when asked
if she would not like someone to be near her in her hours of pain,
she replied: "Oh, no! on the contrary, I am only too glad to be in
a cell away from my Sisters, that I may not be heard. I am content
to suffer alone--as soon as I am pitied and loaded with
attentions, my happiness leaves me."

What strength of soul these words betray! Where we find sorrow she
found joy. What to us is to hard to bear--being overlooked and
ignored by creatures--became to her a source of delight. And her
Divine Spouse knew well how to provide that bitter joy she found
so sweet. Painful remedies had often to be applied. One day, when
she had suffered from them more than usual, she was resting in her
cell during recreation, and overheard a Sister in the kitchen
speaking of her thus: "Soeur Therese will not live long, and
really sometimes I wonder what our Mother Prioress will find to
say about h