28th.—Alleluia, dear sister! Oh! what a delicious awaking. The singing of the Alleluia by René long before the dawn, then all the greetings after the Mass of Communion, and the joy of the little girls, and the delight of the good abbé, upon whom were showered surprises, and Johanna’s joy at seeing me do honor to the first Alleluia of my godson! O the beautiful, beautiful day! And our poor, and Benoni, and High Mass followed by the Papal Benediction, Vespers, sermon: “He is risen!” “We find proofs of our Saviour’s resurrection in our faith and in our works.” Benediction ended about six o’clock.
Long and charming gazette from Edouard. The doctor has fixed the return for the 3d of May. Thus they will be on their way home in a month. May God bring them back to us! Dearest, I am sending to the post; pray, pray, pray! Send us your good angel,
and have a Mass said at Notre Dame des Victoires for our saint. It seems to me that I am going to be present at the death of a sister. How I should like you to have known her. René joins me in every line I am writing; my mother sends you her blessing. All, together and individually, send you their greetings. Christ is risen. Alleluia!
April 3, 1869.
Dear Kate, she is here still, living, smiling, always amiable, always holy, notwithstanding her weakness. “I think that at your prayer God has renewed the miracle wrought by Elias for the widow of Sarepta; for the oil of my lamp must have been exhausted long ago.” We speak of God and of the poor, her two last affections. She has not left to the last moment the disposal of her goods. Her old castle goes to a distant relation who bears her name, her whole fortune goes to relieve the distressed, and she leaves to us her works of art—a curious and remarkable collection made by her father, and which it was not her wish should pass into the hands of the indifferent. O Kate! souls like hers should live always upon earth for its edification.
René is writing to you; I enclose also a letter from Marcella.
God guard you, dearest sister!
April 5, 1869.
It was true, the oil of the lamp was exhausted. What a good life and what a holy death! “Open the windows, if you please. Oh! what harmonies. What a beautiful procession! What a splendid crown! Adieu, and thank you! Jesus! Heaven!” And this was all. It was yesterday.
The day before I entreated our saint to ask of God that he would