I am sure that never did any girl enter a convent, and remain in it for so many years, with a more sincere intention of serving and pleasing God through the will of her Superior than I did. I had been told many times that—
“God in His wisdom has appointed the reverend Mother, and declares that He will only accept your obedience through her, and through her alone.”
And yet she was the very one that made obedience impossible, by giving me rules that were beyond my power to fulfil; and often orders were given me, which I fulfilled, and yet would after all be reprimanded severely for daring to take upon myself to do them.
After suffering much at her hands for three years, I became convinced that she would never treat me better, and I made up my mind to leave the convent. When I asked her permission to leave, she always replied, “Yes, you can go. You may go at this moment if you like.” Yet she never did anything to further my departure. How could I go without clothes to put on? and I had nothing but my serge habit and cap, and was without money for my fare. Besides, it was many miles through a wild country to the nearest railway station, and I was ignorant of the way, and had been shut away from the world for sixteen years, from the early age of fifteen. The only journeys I had made were from convent to convent, and even then we had thick veils over our faces all the way, and were told not to put them up, though we were in close carriages. I wrote several times to my sister, asking her to send me some money to pay for my journey, and to tell me how to get to her, and to meet me. Over and over again I wrote to her, and received no reply. At last I discovered that my letters were not sent. Yet the world is told that nuns have free intercourse with their friends outside. Nothing of the kind!
At last I wrote another letter, and forced myself into my Superior’s presence (for she had now forbidden me to go near her), and asked her to allow the letter to go by this post. I told her that it was to my sister, and that I had written for journey money, as I intended to leave. At this she quite raved, saying:
“Go out of my room this instant! I shall not allow your letter to go to your sister. You write so badly that it is a disgrace to the convent; and your other sister has written asking me not to let you write to her, as your letters worry her so.”
This was not true, as my sister has since told me that she wrote to the Superior requesting her kindly to give me a few details about my mother’s death. I had often written to my sister asking for a piece of my mother’s hair, and it worried her so, as my darling mother was burnt to death, and there was nothing left of her but a charred coal. I had been told only that she was dead, and, very naturally, I wanted to know all about it, and continually asked for the circumstances of her death, and a piece of her hair.
The reverend Mother knew all about it, my sister having written it in the first letter announcing my mother’s death, and yet she never told me what had taken place. My sister had now again written to the Superior asking her to tell me all about it, so that I should not be always asking the same question, which so worried my sister to have repeated unnecessarily as she thought.[13] My brothers, I learnt afterwards, had sent me their photographs, but they had been returned, after which they never wrote to me again, and I had meanwhile been wondering why I never heard from them.
I now felt utterly desolate to think I could not write to my sister, and I was in terror what would happen to me next: somehow I did not like to run away, as it then seemed to me dishonourable, so I said to a young sister, who I knew would report it:
“You know, I have asked over and over again to be allowed to go, and the reverend Mother will not let me. Now I am determined to watch my opportunity and run away; I shall stop at the first house I come to, and send some one up here to ask for money to pay my fare.”