As my Tuscan friend had taught me to pray, and ask the Lord Jesus for grace and strength, I walked into my room, locked the door, and on my knees, called upon the Lord to save me from becoming a nun—­for I knew then it was a determination on the part of the Abbess, bishop and confessor, that I should take the veil.  I was the only child, and heiress of an immense fortune, of course, too good a prize to be lost.  After a short and fervent prayer to my Lord and Saviour, I walked down to see what was to be my doom.  I kissed my father’s cheek, and kissed the hands of the Bishop and confessor—­yet my very soul revolted from the touch of these whited sepulchres.  All received me with great cordiality, yea, even more than usual affection.  Soon after our meeting, my father asked permission of the Bishop to speak to me privately and taking me into a small room, said to me, “My dear daughter, you are not aware of the great misfortune that has recently come upon your father.  While I was excited with wine at the card-table last evening, betting high and winning vast sums of money, I so far forgot myself and my duty to the laws of the country, that I called for a toast, and induced a number of my inebriated companions to drink the health of Italian liberty, and we all drank and gave three cheers for liberty and a liberal constitution.  A Benedictine Friar being present, took all our names to the Commissary General, and offered to be a witness against us in the King’s Court.  As this is my first and only offence, the holy Bishop your god-father offers on certain conditions, to visit Rome immediately on my behalf, and secure the mediation of the holy Father Pius IX.  Your venerable god-father has great influence at Rome, being a special favorite with his holiness, and his holiness can obtain any favor he asks of King Ferdinand.  So if you will only consent to take the Black Veil, your father will be saved from the State prison.”

This was terrible news to my young and palpitating heart.  It was the first heavy blow that I had experienced in this vale of tears.  I did not speak for some minutes; I could not.  My trembling bosom heaved like the waves of the ocean before the blast.  My veins were almost bursting; my hands and feet became as cold as marble, and when I attempted to speak my words seemed ready to choke me to death.  I thought my last hour had come.  I fell upon my knees and called upon God for mercy and help.  My father, thinking I had gone mad, was greatly alarmed.  The Bishop and confessor, who were anxiously waiting the result of my father’s proposition, hearing my father weep and sob aloud, came in to see what the matter was.  In the midst of my prayer, I fainted away, and became entirely unconscious.  When I came to myself, I found myself on the bed.  As I opened my eyes, it all seemed like a dream.  The abbess spoke to me very kindly, and sprinkled my bed with holy water, and at the same time laid a large bronze crucifix on my breast, saying that Satan must