ettled the matter.

It all felt so dreamy that I can scarcely tell what happened afterwards.
I remember that I knelt before my Lady, and before the altar--but I
felt too confused for prayer, and could only say, "_Domine, miserere
me_!" for no other words would come: and then the Master came and
blessed me, and made a short address to me (of which I believe I hardly
took in a word), and appointed the next day for the service of
ordination.

I am an ordained Mother of the Order of Saint Gilbert. And I do not
feel any difference. I thought I should have done. The Master himself
sang the holy mass, and we sang _Veni Creator Spiritus_, and he said in
his address afterwards, that when his hands were laid on my head, the
Holy Ghost came down and filled me with His presence--and I did not feel
that He did. Of course it was all very solemn, and I did most earnestly
desire the influences of the blessed Spirit, for I shall never be able
to do any thing without them: but really I felt our Lord nearer me in
the evening, when I knelt by my bed for a minute, and asked Him, in my
own poor words, to keep me in the right way, and teach me to do His
will. I think I shall try that again. Now that I have a cell to
myself, I can do it. And I sleep in dear Mother Alianora's cell, where
I am sure the blessed Lord has been wont to come. Oh, I hope He will
not tarry away because I am come into it--I, who am so worthless, and so
weak, and need His gracious aid so much more than she did!

I do wish, if so great a favour could possibly be vouchsafed to me, that
I might speak to our Lord just once. He has ere this held converse with
the holy saints. Of course I am not holy, nor a saint, nor in the least
merit any such grace from Him: but I need it more than those who merit
it. Oh, if I could know,--once, certainly, and for ever--whether it is
earthly, and carnal, and wicked, as people say it is, for me to grieve
over that lost love of mine! Sister Ismania says it is all folly and
imagination on my part, because, having been parted when we were only
six years old, I cannot possibly (she says) feel any real, womanly love
for him. But I do not see why it must be grown-up to be real. And I
never knew any thing better or more real. It may not be like what
others have, but it was all I had. I wish sometimes that I knew if he
still lives, and whether that other wife lives to whom I suppose
somebody must have married him after I was thrust