Maria Theresa of Austria was a German of the more generous sort, limited in a domestic rather than a national sense, firm in the ancient faith at which all her own courtiers were sneering, and as brave as a young lioness.

"Fraulein Theresa, with whom you will get acquainted, is a lady such as you will rarely see.

Sister Theresa is really a swell, you know, and her school is hard to get into.”

St. Theresa, her spiritual director, and Venillot, his cook? Were there not two kinds of love?

The old and kindly Austrian family, of which Maria Theresa was the affectionate mother, and Marie Antoinette the rather uneducated daughter, was already superseded and summed up by a rather dried-up young man self-schooled to a Prussian efficiency.

"Saint Theresa dies longing to join her divine spouse; but Saint Theresa is only a Héloïse looking towards heaven."

Sister Theresa was her guardian.

I came to tell you that Theresa is not the daughter of her reputed mother.

But Catherine was the slave of infamous passions, and Maria Theresa was a party to the partition of Poland.

Sister Theresa is her nearest relative, and she occasionally visits St. Agatha’s—that’s the school.”

I can see now that it was, though, I never thought of its meaning anything then, only that he thought Theresa was a pretty girl, just as we all do.

"Theresa is a very sweet woman," said Adelaide dutifully.

“It is interesting to know that Sister Theresa wasn’t his only debtor.”