adding that nothing made community life more trying than
unevenness of temper.

"You are indeed right, I answered, "such was my own thought.
Henceforward my tears will be for God alone. I shall confide my
worries to One Who will understand and console me."

"Tears for God!" she promptly replied, "that must not be. Far less
to Him than to creatures ought you to show a mournful face. Our
Divine Master has only our monasteries where He may obtain some
solace for His Heart. He comes to us in search of rest--to forget
the unceasing complaints of His friends in the world, who, instead
of appreciating the value of the Cross, receive it far more often
with moans and tears. Would you then be as the mediocre souls?
Frankly, this is not disinterested love. . . . _It is for us to
console our Lord, and not for Him to console us._ His Heart is so
tender that if you cry He will dry your tears; but thereafter He
will go away sad, since you did not suffer Him to repose
tranquilly within you. Our Lord loves the glad of heart, the
children that greet Him with a smile. When will you learn to hide
your troubles from Him, or to tell Him gaily that you are happy to
suffer for Him?"

"The face is the mirror of the soul," she said once, "and yours,
like that of a contented little child, should always be calm and
serene. Even when alone, be cheerful, remembering always that you
are in the sight of the Angels."

* * * * * *

I was anxious she should congratulate me on what, in my eyes, was
an heroic act of virtue; but she said to me:

"Compare this little act of virtue with what our Lord has the
right to expect of you! Rather should you humble yourself for
having lost so many opportunities of proving your love."

Little satisfied with this answer, I awaited an opportunity of
finding out how Soeur Therese herself would act under trial, and
the occasion was not long in coming. Reverend Mother asked us to
do some extremely tiring work which bristled with difficulties,
and, on purpose, I made it still more difficult for our Mistress.

Not for one second, however, could I detect her in fault, and,
heedless of the fatigue involved, she remained gracious and
amiable, eager throughout to help others at her own expense. At
last I could resist no longer, and I confessed to her what my
thoughts had been.

"How comes it," I said, "that you can be so patient? You are ever
the same--calm and full of joy." "It was not always the case wit