"Will you ask the reverend mother to let me stay with you awhile, dear Euphrasie?" she said.
"What! Here? here in the convent? in this poor place?" replied Euphrasie. "You who have been, cradled in luxury and reared in abundance? You know not what you ask, dear friend; it is impossible."
Annie looked at the superioress; she read more promise there. "Dear reverend mother," she said, "Almighty God has seen how unfit I am as yet to train my beloved children in the narrow path of mortification and of humiliation, trodden by our Divine Master. He has sent me to learn it of you. Will you accept me as your disciple in Jesus Christ? At least, I can promise you reverence and submission."
"You are welcome, most welcome, my daughter," said the superioress, "and may Almighty God, in his own good time, restore your children to you, to be brought up in the faith and love of Christ."
"Thank you, dear mother; and if you and the dear sisters will assist me by your prayers, doubtless he will. He has but sent me here to school awhile, that I may be able to teach them rightly. I stand as yet but on the threshold of the church; I have looked in and seen her glories, but selfish and worldly as I have been from childhood, I scarce know how to share in her unworldly triumphs."
"Dear cousin," said Euphrasie, "you must not defame yourself. You were ever kind and generous, and now your humility will surely bring you a blessing. We will try to make you happy here."
"Indeed, yes," said the superioress, "it is a great consolation to us to receive you. Your heart, so long accustomed to the incredulity of the age, needs rest—such rest as is produced by dwelling on the love of Christ for us. After a while it will become for you a necessity to reciprocate that love, by pouring yourself out as it were in deeds of charity and kindness for the pure love of him who died for you. Once accustomed to converse familiarly with him, you will no longer regard him as divided from yourself, but as one same self with you, so that with St. Paul you may be able to exclaim, 'I live now, not I, but Christ liveth in me.' Yes, my dear daughter, from him you may hope all things for your children as well as for yourself. Detach yourself from this world, seek Christ crucified, that you may repose surely in his love."
Adelaide listened and wondered. She looked around at the bare walls, the uncarpeted floor, the plain deal tables, and the common rush-chairs. "Is the rest of the house like this?" she asked of herself: "and am I to leave Annie here?"
Begging the superioress to excuse her for an instant, she drew Annie apart, and urged upon her that it was useless for her to subject herself to such privations as these.