head till you have passed.  In the present instance, the priest said, as he removed his hat, “Church is in, Sister.”  I bowed again, and hastened on.  With trembling limbs I ascended the Church steps, and stood there till the priests were out of sight.  It was but a moment, yet it seemed a long time.  I knew the house was filled with priests and students, some of whom would be sure to recognize me at once.  What if they should come out!  The thought of it nearly took away my breath.  The cold perspiration started from my brow, and I felt as though I should faint.  But my fears were not realized, and as soon as the priests were out of sight, I went on again.  Soon I came to a cross street, leading to the river, where a large hotel stood on the corner.  I followed the river, and travelled all night.  The next day, fearing to be seen by people going to church, I hid in a cellar hole, covered over with old boards and timbers.

At night I went on again, and on Sunday evening about ten o’clock I came to a small village where I resolved to seek food and lodging.  Tired, hungry and cold, feeling as though I could not take another step, I called at one of the houses, and asked permission to stay over night.  It was cheerfully granted.  The lady gave me some milk, and I retired to rest.  Next morning, I rose early and left before any of the family were up.  I knew they were all Romanists, and I feared to trust them.

At noon that day I arrived at St. Oars, a town, named, as I have been informed, for the man who owns a great part of it.  I stopped at a public house, which, they called, “Lady St. Oars,” where they were eating dinner.  The landlady invited me to dine with them, and asked if I belonged to the convent in that place.  I told her that I did, for I knew if I told the truth they would suspect me at once.  “Do you eat meat?” she asked.  I told her I did not.  “Do you eat butter on your bread?” I replied in the affirmative, and she gave me a slice of bread and butter, a piece of cheese and a silver cup full of milk.  I ate it all, and would gladly have eaten more, for I was very hungry.  As I was about to leave, the lady remarked, “There was grease in that cheese, was it a sin for me to give it to you?” I assured her it was not, for I was allowed to eat milk, and the cheese being made of milk, there could be no sin in my eating it I told her that, so far from committing a sin, the blessed Virgin was pleased with her benevolent spirit, and would, in some way, reward her for her kindness.

Leaving Lady St. Oars, I went on to the next town where I arrived at seven in the evening.  I called at the house of a Frenchman, and asked if I could stay over night, or at least, be allowed to rest awhile.  The man said I was welcome to come in, but he had no place where I could sleep.  They were just sitting down to supper, which consisted of pea soup; but the lady said there was meat in it, and she would not invite me to partake of it; but she gave me a good supper of bread and milk.  She thought I was a Sister of Charity, and I did not tell her that I was not.  After supper, she saw that my skirt was stiff with mud, and kindly offered to wash it out for me, saying, I could rest till it was dry.  I joyfully accepted her offer, and reclining in a corner, enjoyed a refreshing slumber.