After I had signed and sent these two letters, copied in the preceding chapter, to the agents of the ecclesiastical system, I thought that I had declared the independence of my personal liberty and freedom. I had not the least intention of leaving the Church of Rome, as I still believed that it was the only true church, outside of which there was no salvation. But before many weeks had passed, conditions so shaped themselves, through the persecutions of Rome's representatives, that I decided that the liberty and freedom I hoped to have gained by leaving the convent, was not to be found even in the church.

I arrived in Spokane at nine o'clock on the evening of April 3, 1912, and went direct to the home of Mrs. Kearney. She received me very cordially and we had a long talk before retiring. This first night in the world was a long, sleepless one for me. Everything seemed reversed, so to speak, and my heart was heavy from the terrible ordeal I had endured for the last two days.

The following morning, April 4th, I discarded the burdensome garb, that great load of black serge, and donned a large-flowered kimona, the only other clothes I had, and this was given me. This was the first day since July 30th, 1881, that I had attired myself in any other than the garb of the Sisters of Charity of the Roman Catholic system—nearly thirty-one years. My hair, which was about long enough to hang in my eyes, I tied back with a pretty little red ribbon, which had been on a candy box.

On Monday, April 8th, Sister Matilda of St. Vincent's telephoned to me, saying that she was at the Sacred Heart Hospital with Mother Nazareth and asked me to come there to see them. When they could not prevail upon me to do so, they condescended to come to Mrs. Kearney's to see me.

Their visit lasted about three hours. In tears and, seemingly, great sorrow at my leaving the community, they tried to get me to return to Cranbrook, saying that none of the sisters except the superior and my own sister knew anything about my leaving the order. Our rule says that if a sister leaves the community of her own free will, she cannot return without dispensation. So I told Mother Nazareth that I could not go back, as it was against the rule. She then handed me a letter from Archbishop Christie and said that that was my dispensation to return. I read as follows:

Portland, Oregon, April 7, 1912.

Dear Sister:

The contents of your letter was a great shock to me. I never thought you would give way to the temptation to leave your order. I have requested Mother N. (Nazareth) to go and see you.

You did not become a sister in order to be appreciated and praised for the talents which God has given you. You entered religion to do God's work and to save your soul.

Now, sister, return to your convent. Do not allow the evil one to induce you to leave it. Do as Mother N. directs to do.

Asking God to direct and bless you, I am,

Sincerely in Xto,

X A. CHRISTIE.

I flatly refused to do as Archbishop Christie requested. Mother Nazareth then offered me my choice of the Sacred Heart Hospital in Spokane, or to return to St. Vincent's Hospital in Portland. When I refused to go to any house as a sister, she offered me my choice of any of the houses of the order, as a home, or boarder, as long as I lived. I had seen too many poor, old sisters, who had received a home such as they were offering me, and knew too well what it meant—"hurry up and get off the face of the earth"—and so I refused this, seemingly, very lucrative offer.

After many more entreaties and the shedding of many tears, I finally said to these two "holy scheming-spirits" of the Roman Catholic system, "I am out, and I am out to stay. If you want someone back, go and take Sister Zita back or some of the other sisters who are sitting in the four corners of the community-world doing penance." (Sister Zita was a poor sister who had left the community for about the same reasons I had left, after serving the church for thirty years. She had begged the system to take her back, but they absolutely refused to do so. Sister Zita told me this herself, together with some of the terrible wrongs that had been perpetrated upon her.)

When they were convinced that I could not be persuaded to return, they then wanted my garb, saying that it did not belong to me. I said that I had worn it long enough, and that I thought I was entitled to keep it. Mother Nazareth then said, "The community might DEMAND it." I answered, "DEMAND! That is the word that has put me where I am, DEMAND. You DEMAND!" (This conversation led to the naming of my book.)

At last they were beaten and did not know what course to pursue. Finally, Mother Nazareth said, "What will we tell Archbishop Christie?" I said, "Tell him the truth; tell him what has taken place in this room," and with that they left.

On April 9th, "Father" Carti, a Jesuit priest from the Gonzaga College, came to see me.

He had been sent to me by the community in regard to the amount that I had asked in the last letter I had written them. He told me that the community could not give the two thousand dollars, as other sisters would leave and want the same, but that they might give me one thousand dollars.

He then asked me to return to the convent, saying that I did not have dispensation, and that my being out like this could not be so, and that I was not out in the world. I looked around to assure myself that I was really out, and said, "Well, I am out, and I am out to stay." He tried to convince me that I was in honor bound to go to some religious house till I would be released from my vows by the church, naming several Roman Catholic institutions, lastly, the House of the Good Shepherd. I looked at him in scorn and repeated, "The House of the Good Shepherd?" as the sisters of the order of Sisters of Charity always had a horror for the very name "House of the Good Shepherd." When he saw how I felt over this, he very quickly offered me a home at the Gonzaga College, although that is a Jesuit institution and, as a general rule, women are not allowed there. When all his efforts had failed, he said, in a cunning manner, that as I had trouble in the community, so I would now have trouble in the world.

I did not realize the significance of this statement at that time—I think Rome's representative had slipped a little—but in the few years to follow I have surely understood the full meaning of it. That is a very true Jesuitical teaching of the Roman Catholic System—Rome rule or ruin.

I told this "holy father" that the community had sent him to see me on business, and that I did not need his exhortation. The business was soon over, I refusing all his offers of every nature, and he retired.

On Thursday, April 11th, Sister Rita visited me. We had as pleasant a time as could be expected under the circumstances. She informed me as to the scandalous manner Mother Nazareth and Sister Matilda had found me dressed when they visited me—"with a flowered kimona and a red ribbon around my hair." She said that they had told Archbishop Christie about it. She also told me that the sisters at St. Vincent's were praying and had forty candles burning for my return.

I read her a copy of my letter for redress to Archbishop Christie, which I had mailed August 28, 1911. She was much surprised that he had not answered, and could not hold him free from blame for the awful wrongs, as he had the authority to right them if he cared to. She endeavored to get my garb, saying that I had no further use for it, but I was continually on my guard, knowing that even my dear, good friend and former "chum," Sister Rita, could not go beyond the Roman dictation.

The first Sunday after I had left the convent was Easter Sunday, but I could not go to mass, as I did not have any clothing except "the flowered kimona." By the second Sunday, April 14th, with the assistance of Mrs. Kearney, I had secured sufficient clothes to be attired fairly respectable, and I decided that I would go to church. I did not care to be conspicuous, or to mix with the people very much, as I was not accustomed to the ways of the world as yet, so I decided to go to Hilyard, a suburb of Spokane, to hear "holy mass" and the sermon.

During the entire service, it all seemed darker and more stupid than at any time during my past life. I thought it was due to the newness of my present life, and I left the church in silence.

On Saturday morning, April 20th, Sister Rita came to visit me for the second time since I had left. As she entered the door she said that this time she had taken it upon herself to come and see her dear friend, Sister Lucretia, and that she was going to stay with me till Sunday night.

Think of it, people, how Rome was using this dear, good friend of mine to do its work. I still had enough Roman Catholicism embedded in my heart and mind to watch her, even at night, sleeping with one eye open, so to speak. My suspicions were so strong that I had my few belongings moved to safe-keeping during her stay with me.

She told me that I did not look right in civilian clothes, and that I could never look as nice in any other as the sister's garb. She tried to induce me to clothe myself as a sister again and return with her, saying that she could get the consent of the ecclesiastical authorities and the superiors of the community for us to take a trip to Rome and other parts of Europe.

This was a mighty temptation to me, as I had wished many times to see the Vatican and visit the Pope, but I knew that if I accepted this offer I would have to return to the community, and now, as I was out, I was determined to stay; so I told her that I could not accept the offer, as I did not intend to return to the sisterhood. Many times since, I have looked back to this visit of Sister Rita, and concluded that some guiding hand, some power, greater and mightier than my own, was directing my actions and decisions on the great temptations that were being placed before me.

On Monday, April 22d, Mother Nazareth and Sister Matilda came to see me again. Mother Nazareth told me that I was living in mortal sin every day for not having dispensation from my vows. I told her that it was through no fault of my own, as I was waiting for them to get my dispensation. She then took a long document from her pocket, asking me to sign it for my dispensation. I looked at it and informed her that it was written in Latin and that I did not understand Latin sufficiently to sign my name to a document written in that language. She then handed me another document, and upon examination, I found that it was written in French. I told her that I did not understand French sufficiently to sign my name to it, and asked her to explain it to me. (I knew from former association with her and Sister Matilda that neither of them could read French or Latin.) Without any explanation she handed me the third document. This one was written in English. I asked them to excuse me for a minute and I went to an adjoining room, where, in the presence of Mrs. Kearney, I copied the following, which was under the heading on the document, "Reasons for leaving the Order":

"Community life has become wearisome to me, and, therefore, it interferes with the saving of my soul. I am convinced that it is best for me to return to the world."

I returned to the room where the two sisters were and handed them the document, informing them that I could not sign it, as it did not contain the reasons for my leaving the order, as I had never been weary a day in my life. I told them that they both knew the reasons for which I left, and, if they did not, they could find them in my letter to the community which was written when I left the order. "Such lies!" I said, "Why can't you be honest? I can send my own reasons to Rome and get dispensation for myself when I get ready."

Two days later, "Father" Carti came to see me for the second time, with practically the same message as before, viz., to return to the community and in regards to settlement of my claims against them.

The next day, Thursday, April 25th, "Father" Carti telephoned to me and asked me to come to the Gonzaga College, so we could talk further in regard to the settlement and if possible, come to some agreement.

Mrs. Kearney accompanied me to the college, and when "Father" Carti saw that I had a witness, he asked, "Do you want this woman to hear what we have to say?" I answered, "Yes, I want her to hear whatever is said." He hinted that there would be no business transacted in her company, so we left.

From the college I called on my attorney, whom I had retained as my adviser, and he advised me to give them till the first of May to settle for two thousand dollars. On returning home, I telephoned to "Father" Carti, and informed him that I had been to see my attorney since I left the college and that I would give them (the community) until the first of May to settle for the two thousand dollars I originally asked; and that in the future all business was to be transacted through my attorney, as I was not physically able to attend to it myself, being on the verge of nervous collapse. He was very angry, saying that I was wrong and had no business to go to secular law (meaning a secular attorney) and that we could have settled it ourselves.

I had been out of the sisterhood nearly four weeks, and had attended church only once, so now I thought I would take up my religion again and attend mass and church service. So, on Sunday, April 28th, I again went to Hilyard and heard the Latin mass and the priest preach. During the sermon I was looking at the statues and other religious show in the church, and then and there, in that house, being used for so-called religious services, God revealed Himself to me. The whole show really was nauseating to me, and before the sermon was finished I retired as quietly as I could. I had heard of the idols and images of the Chinese Joss-house, and that is just as it appeared to me that day. When I arrived home, I told Mrs. Kearney to not awaken me again for mass, unless I told her to do so.

The following week, Mrs. Kearney came to me and told me that "Father" Carti had told her to put me out of her house, that by keeping me there it would hurt her with the sisters, the priests and the Roman Catholics. My answer was that I had left the sisterhood because of the wrongs and oppressive, tyrannical treatment; now I see that there is something wrong with that religion, too. If they are going to follow and hound and down me, I am through with them, and I do not want anything further to do with any of them. I also told her that if anything happened me, or if I got sick, to call the first Protestant minister she could find.

This instance, together with the persecutions that had been going on since I had been out of the sisterhood, caused me to decide conclusively in my own mind that I did not want anything to do with them.

I had been a Roman Catholic up to that moment, and had given them no cause to treat me in that manner, other than having left the sisterhood, as many sisters do, but now they did not care what became of me. Mrs. Kearney was the only friend I had in Spokane to whom I could go and this was probably the last subterfuge of the Hierarchy to force me back to their clutches.

So I became a Protestant, not in reality for some time, but I was no longer a Roman Catholic.