Dearest Kate, what will you think of your Georgina getting the _Conférences aux Femmes du Monde_[81] into a religious house? But my Kate understands me; that is enough for me. _O amica mea, gaudium meum et corona mea!_ The beautiful Saturday did not end at Saint-Euverte: splendid festival at Sainte-Croix, the fiftieth anniversary of the priesthood of the good _curé_. It was magnificent, and the music also――like the hymns of heaven. To-day the Annunciation, the commencement of the Redemption. What a feast! How I should like, as in our childhood, to spend the day in prayer! O sweetest Virgin, what a most fair memory in your glory! Gabriel, one of the seven archangels continually at the feet of the Eternal, spreads his wings, and from the heights of the everlasting hills descends into the valleys of Judea. Celestial messenger, you doubtless cast a glance of pity on the abodes of opulence and the vanities of the world; or rather, you saw them not. Absorbed in your admiration at the mercy of the Almighty, you adored and gave thanks. And now a Virgin of Nazareth, in the tranquillity of prayer and love, is suddenly dazzled by an unknown light, and the archangel salutes her in the sublime words which will be repeated by Catholic hearts to all generations: “_Ave, gratia plena!_” O Mary! from this day forth you are our Mother, the Mother of our Salvation. O Handmaid of the Lord, humble and sweet Mother! obtain for my soul humility and love. Hail to the spring, the swallows, the periwinkles, all the renewal of nature! How good is God, to have made our exile so fair! Oh! how I enjoy everything, dear Kate. Presented Karl with the portrait of Ellen, painted from memory. His silent tears expressed his thanks. I have made him also sit for his likeness; it will be a precious remembrance of this true friend. Who knows whether we shall ever meet again in this world? Thus the days pass away, shared between regret and hope. The good _abbé_ is delighted with the progress of his pupils. Anna grows visibly stronger. I am reading Dante with René. Ah! dearest, how magnificent it is. Marcella speaks Greek and Latin, and wishes me to read Homer and Virgil in the original. Wish me good success, dear. A long walk; met a little beggar, whom Picciola fraternally embraced. What a pretty scene, and how I afterwards kissed my dear pet! Love me always, dear Kate. MARCH 28, 1868. Darling Kate, I send you my notes without adding anything, because we have Karl with us for only one more day. O these departures! _Laus Deo_ always, nevertheless. MARCH 30, 1868.