“One Sunday evening she and I were walking in the garden after benediction.  She felt more than usually weak, and, therefore, I could offer her my arm to lean upon.

“‘Dear Sister Magdalene Adelaide,’ she said, ’I think our blessed Lord is soon going to come for me.’

“I tried to cheer her by telling her that it might be His will to restore her again to health and strength.

“‘No, dear Sister,’ she replied; ’and oh, I do not want to stay.  I long to see my Master’s face.  At night, when I lay awake in pain, I long, oh, so much, that I might go!’

“‘Sister Madeline,’ I said, ’you have been happy here, have you not?  You love your present life?’

“We had seated ourselves by this time in a little grotto made up in honor of ‘Our Lady of Lourdes.’  She buried her face in her hands, and I saw the tears trickling between her fingers.

“My own eyes filled with tears; I know not why.

“At last, raising up her head, she said:  ’I have tried my best to be contented; but oh!  Sister Adelaide, it has been a bitter struggle.  It is wrong in me to give way thus; but I cannot help it.  May Our Lady pity me!  I want you to promise, dear Sister, that you will say a rosary for me every day for a year after I am dead, and one communion every month.’

“‘I will gladly do this for you, Sister Madeline,’ I answered.  ’Tell me,’ I continued, ‘is there any particular day you prefer?’

“‘Yes,’ she replied, ’I would like your Friday communion.  Promise me that on the anniversary of the feast of St. Mary Magdalene, my patron saint, you will offer your communion for me.’

“I promised her this and she seemed more satisfied.

“‘I know,’ she said, ‘that I shall have a long purgatory.’  She shuddered as she spoke.  ’And oh!  I do hope the dear sisters will remember me in their prayers and communions.’

“‘Dear Sister Madeline,’ I said at last, ’purgatory is better than hell and our Blessed Lady will intercede for you.’

“‘Yes, dear Sister Magdalene Adelaide,’ she said, ’you are right; but oh!’ she continued, ’I cannot help the shudder that passes through me as I think of the suffering I shall be in for years, especially after the mortifications I have practiced here, the discipline I have applied to myself, the days I have abstained from food, the prayers I have offered, the tears I have shed; and now, as death approaches, there is no other prospect before me than a long term of purgatorial punishment.  Besides, the punishment will be all the greater since I have given away to an unnatural thought.’

“‘And what, may I ask, do you call an unnatural thought?’

“‘Sister Magdalene Adelaide, come close to me.’

“I rose from my chair and knelt down beside her.

“‘Dear sister, I have endeavored to bear my cross,’ she commenced, speaking with difficulty; ’But oh! sister, I dread the end; I have so much to expiate; and oh!’ she continued, her voice now choked with sobs, ’if only I could have my mother near me; if only I could hear her voice once more; it is so long since I have seen her.  I have asked for any letter that may have come, but they tell me none has arrived, and oh!  I don’t think mother has quite forgotten me.’