Isa’s mother is beginning to understand. I have been getting so many prayers for this! She yesterday said, after having listened very calmly to what I had to say: “Dear Georgina, I feel that God inspires you; but only think how I have been broken down, and what need
I have of Isa!” Poor mother! O these vocations!—a terrible secret which rends so many souls. “Let the dead bury their dead!” I need all my faith in the Gospel to admit that these words were said by our merciful Saviour. St. Bernard, the saint of Mary, the honey of Mary, will succeed in gaining this material heart, which hesitates before the greatness of the sacrifice.
We have finished our splendid reading. This evening we shall take Klopstock. We all find that nothing equals this intellectual pleasure of interchanging our impressions while reading together. We separate at eleven. I am taking some views, being desirous of transporting my part of Ireland into France.
Margaret has written to Mistress Annah to offer her the post of governess to the charming baby. We expect her answer to-day. The baptism took place on the 15th. It was splendid.
Have seen Sarah, whose son has been ill—always amiable, with a tinge of melancholy, caught, no doubt, by the side of the cradle.
My duties are so multiplied that I should be quite unequal to them without René. What a pleasure it is to do for others what they have done for me!
Send me always your good angel, my best beloved.
August 26, 1868.
What a fête for my mother, the evening of the 24th! All the echoes resounded with it. In two days hence we are to go to Fanny’s marriage, which takes place in Dublin. Great preparations; but Anna is unwell, and this spoils our joy. Marcella has suffered so much that she trembles at the least shock. Lucy will remain here with our Italians; we cannot return for a
week. But the great piece of news I have to tell you is this: Isa enters the convent of —— on the 8th of October. I have obtained this exchange. Carmel alarmed the poor mother too much; and, besides, the health of our friend is too much shaken to be able to support the austerities of St. Teresa. The two families of the D—— will go with us to Dublin, and we shall accompany Isa. What a Te Deum we ought to sing! The timid child had never owned to her mother the ardor which consumed her; the death of George—the nephew so passionately loved, sole heir of so noble a name, and betrothed to Isa from childhood—appeared to Mme. D—— the death of everything, and she lived “extinguished.” Oh! how I rejoice at this success. Margaret and Isa, both once so sad, and now with their hearts in an eternal spring!