me. To avoid the blame which
ought naturally to fall upon them for having so unworthily treated a
person who have given up everything to devote herself to the service of
that diocese. After I had done this, and was not in a condition to
return to France, they treated me extremely ill in every respect. There
was scarcely any kind of false or fabulous story, likely to gain any
credit, which they did not invent to cry me down. Beside my having no
way to make the truth known in France, our Lord inspired me with a
willingness to suffer everything, without justifying myself; so that in
my case nothing was heard but condemnation, without any vindication.

I was in this convent, and had seen Father La Combe no further than I
have mentioned; yet they did not cease to publish, both of him and me,
the most scandalous stories; as utterly false as anything could be, for
he was then a hundred and fifty leagues from me.

For some time I was ignorant of this. As I knew that all my letters
were kept from me, I ceased to wonder at receiving none. I lived in
this house with my little daughter in a sweet repose, which was a very
great favor of Providence. My daughter had forgotten her French, and
among the little girls from the mountains had contracted a wild look
and disagreeable manners. Her wit, sense and judgment, were indeed
surprising, and her disposition exceedingly good. There were only some
little fits of peevishness, which they had caused to arise in her,
through certain contrarieties out of season, caresses ill applied, and
for want of knowing the proper manner of education. But the Lord
provided in regard to her. During this time my mind was preserved calm
and resigned to God. Afterward that good sister almost continually
interrupted me; I answered everything she desired of me, both out of
condescension, and from a principle which I had to obey like a child.

When I was in my apartment, without any other director than our Lord by
His Spirit, as soon as one of my little children came to knock at my
door, he required me to admit the interruption. He showed me that it is
not the actions in themselves which please Him, but the constant ready
obedience to every discovery of His will, even in the minutest things,
with such a suppleness, as not to stick to anything, but still to turn
with Him at every call. My soul was then, I thought, like a leaf, or a
feather, which the wind moves what way soever it pleases and the Lord
never suff