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[55r°] ever caressed by him before. He told me all was not lost, that he was very happy I was making the trip to Rome to strengthen my vocation, that instead of crying I should rejoice. He added that the following week, before going to Lisieux, he’d speak about me to the pastor of St. James and [5] I would receive an answer from him in Italy. I understood it was useless to make further entreaties, and besides I had nothing to say, having exhausted all the resources of my eloquence.

The Bishop brought us out as far as the garden. Papa amused him very much by telling him that in order to appear older I had put up my hair. (This wasn’t [10] lost on the Bishop, for he never spoke about “his little daughter” without telling the story of the hair.) Father Révérony wanted to accompany us to the end of the garden, and he told Papa that never had the like been seen before: “A father as eager to give his child to God as this child was to offer herself to Him!”

Papa asked him for a few explanations about the pilgrimage, among them how one [15] must dress to appear before the Holy Father. I still can see him turning around in front of Father Révérony saying: “Am I good enough as I am?” He had told the Bishop that if he didn’t allow me to enter Carmel, I was going to ask the Sovereign Pontiff. Papa was very simple in his words and manners, but he was so handsome, and he had a [20] natural dignity about him which must have pleased the Bishop, accustomed to see himself surrounded by people who knew all the rules of polite society; but the King of France and Navarre in person, along with his little Queen, was not one of these.

When in the street again my tears began to flow, not so much because of my sorrow but because of my little Father who had made a useless trip. He had his heart set on sending a telegram to the Carmel announcing a favorable answer from the Bishop and was obliged to



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