explained to them that, passing by a deserted village, which had been destroyed by the Germans, he had found her lying in a ditch. He had lifted her into the cart and taken her along with him, and he now asked if the nuns could not direct him to some hospital or institute where she would be taken care of. They went with him as far as the Hospice, where the officials declared they had more work than they could possibly attend to; still, as Mother Prioress begged so hard, they took her in. The poor old woman was over ninety. How many are there who, like her, find themselves turned out of the little home, which had perhaps cost them their whole life’s savings. Why should the poor, the aged, the infirm, the innocent, suffer to satisfy the ambition of the unjust? Truly, ‘My ways are not your ways, saith the Lord.’ In eternity, lost in the blissful contemplation of God’s infinite perfections, we shall understand the wisdom of those things which now surpass our poor intelligence. On Thursday morning, we arose at 4.30 from what might truly be styled ‘our humble couch,’ to be ready for the promised Mass at 5 o’clock. During the night, we had harboured the Sisters of Providence, who were leaving next day. Having waited half an hour, and no priest coming, we recited lauds, prime, and tierce. We again waited in all patience, but no one appeared. We could not miss Holy Mass and Communion--it was the only source of consolation left to us; besides, we never knew if, perhaps, we should live to see the following day. The regiment to which the priests belonged had probably been ordered off during the night--hence the reason of their non-arrival. At 7.30 Mother Prioress assembled us all at the enclosure door, and, leaving Edmund in charge of the convent, we put down our veils, and two by two, started for the Carmelite Convent, situated a little way down the street. There we learned that the nuns had left the day before. We were determined not to miss Mass at any cost, so continued as far as the Church of St. James, where we arrived in the middle of one Mass, after which we received Holy Communion, and then had the happiness of assisting at another Mass--celebrated also by a French chaplain, though not one of those who had been at the Abbey the day before. On our way home, we were met by a priest of the parish, who had served Mass for a long time in our chapel, when he was a young boy, and, returning to Ypres years after, had always remained attached to the community. He was touched to see us thus obliged to break our beloved enclosure, and spoke words of courage and consolation to us.