“I do not need anything at all; but will the reverend Mother please let me have the box of clothes I brought back with me.”
After some hours the box was sent to me with my clothes all turned about, and with the following message:
“The reverend Mother was obliged to look over your clothes, to see what you wanted.”
I found that she had put two old table napkins full of holes, in the box, two old towels full of darns, and two coarse tea cloths (which treasures I keep to this day), a petticoat; and besides these she gave me permission to keep a new habit. I examined closely the contents of my box, and found that a dictionary, a quantity of fine linen and other things had been taken from it. I asked her for the linen, saying that I had bought it with money my brother had given me before I returned. She sent back this message:
“Tell her I have taken nothing but what belongs to me.”
I imagined she meant that as I had taken the vow of poverty, she had a right to give or retain whatever she liked. After I had taken my departure, I wrote for my things, but I never received an answer.
This was the second time I had left convent life, which had so often been described to me as “angelic.” I had endured quite enough of its misery.