Excerpt from Madonna Hall: The Story of Our Country's Peril
Bishop Berlin had been chosen administrator, and was also her guardian. He was under forty, noble looking, cultured, dignified, and lived an irreproachable life. On hearing the news, the Bishop left his palace, and called on the Superioress Clarissima.
"Good morning, my lord bishop," she cried, as she met him in the parlor, and grasped his hand. "My poor father is dead, and my property is to be cared for."
"Your property, little mother?" with a gleam of surprise in his fine eyes, and a ready smile. "I thought you gave it to this convent when you took the veil."
"Yes, I remember. But as I am superioress, I must have special rights; and you'll see that I have all the money I want, I'm sure."
"Certainly," was the genial reply. "Although it is against our rules, I shall take great pleasure in making an exception in your favor, to a reasonable extent."
"Thank you ever so much," with a beaming face. "I knew you would, you are always so kind and just."
"I shall, however," he added, with dignity, "be pleased to have you advise with me about the disposal of what I may, from time to time, restore you from your father's estate."
"All right. I don't mind telling you, since you are bishop. You will see that I am reasonable.
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