unt from
my husband that my father was ill. And as I afterward found, he
suffered only twelve hours. He was therefore by this time dead. The
abbess returning, said, "Here is a letter from your husband, who writes
that your father is taken violently ill." I said to her, "He is dead, I
cannot have a doubt about it."

I sent away to Paris immediately, to hire a coach, to go the sooner;
mine waited for me at the midway. I went off at nine o'clock at night.
They said. I "was going to destroy myself." I had no acquaintance with
me as I had sent away my maid to Paris, to put everything in order
there. Being in a religious house, I had no mind to keep a footman with
me. The abbess told me, that "since I thought my father was dead, it
would be rashness in me to expose myself, and run the risk of my life
in that manner. Coaches could hardly pass the way I was going, it being
no beaten road." I answered, "It was my indispensable duty to go to
assist my father, and that I ought not, on a bare apprehension, to
exempt myself from it." I then went alone, abandoned to Providence,
with people unknown. My weakness was so great, that I could hardly keep
my seat in the coach. I was often forced to alight, on account of
dangerous places in the road.

In this way I was obliged, about midnight, to cross a forest, notorious
for murders and robberies. The most intrepid dreaded it; but my
resignation left me scarce any room to think at all about it. What
fears and uneasiness does a resigned soul spare itself! All alone I
arrived within five leagues of my own habitation, where I found my
confessor who had opposed me, with one of my relations, waiting for me.
The sweet consolation I had enjoyed, when alone, was now interrupted.
My confessor, ignorant of my state, restrained me entirely. My grief
was of such a nature that I could not shed a tear. And I was ashamed to
hear a thing which I knew but too well, without giving any exterior
mark of grief. The inward and profound peace I enjoyed dawned on my
countenance. The state I was in did not permit me to speak, or to do
such things as are usually expected from persons of piety. I could do
nothing but love and be silent.

I found on my arrival at home, that my father was already buried
because of the excessive heat. It was ten o'clock at night. All wore
the habit of mourning. I had traveled thirty leagues in a day and a
night. As I was very weak, not having taken any nourishment, I was
instantly p