The Archbishop of Paris, Monseigneur Sibour, was to honour the convent by paying a sacerdotal visit. It was not only the father coming to look after the welfare of his children, but, and more particularly this, it was the Prince of the Church condescending to appear in the midst of these humble and holy women and pure children. It was a Divine Majesty coming down from the throne to mingle with his human subjects. The whole convent was in a state of great excitement when the good news was received, and I must own that there was more enthusiasm than solemnity visible during the time that preceded the visit. The chapel was decorated with all its most special ornaments for this most special reception. The whole house was filled with flowers, and what particularly delighted me and several of my companions was that a play taken from a Biblical subject was rehearsed for the benefit of Monseigneur. I should not like to affirm that the privileged ones who were chosen to take part in this play had no vanity on their conscience on that particular day. It was no small glory to appear before a public, limited certainly in number, but so wonderfully select. I was only a fragile child at that time, interesting rather than pretty, in spite of my rose-coloured lips, my "heavenly eyes," as the nuns called them, and my light gold hair. It is from that far-back time that my earliest theatrical souvenirs date. It was St. Catherine's Day, a general holiday in all the convents for girls, but with us, this year, it was a very great day. Much more attention than usual had been given to the rehearsals of the play that was to be performed. The subject of the piece had been taken from the Bible. It was the journey of young Tobias, and had been written by Sister Thérèse.