“ And how happy it will be, if we all gather together in His halls above,—Guy, and Sybil, and me, and old Marguerite, and Lady Judith, and Monseigneur, and Eschine, and the little children, and all,—never again to hear Paynim cry nor woman's wail,—safe for ever, in the banquet-hall of God.
At home again at last!
How strangely glad they all seem to see me! I do not think I ever knew how they all loved me. I have lived for myself, and a little for Guy. Now, with His grace, I fain would live for God, and in Him for every one. ”

“ My sister Sybil loved Guy, and would have died rather than sacrifice him to a mob of parvenu nobles. She is gone, and you are come in her stead, the saints know how! You are not the Sybil whom I loved, but a stranger,—a cold, calculating, politic, false-hearted woman. Heartless, ungenerous, faithless, false! I sweep you out of my heart this day, as if you had never entered it. You are false to Guy, and false to God. I will never, never, never forgive you! From this hour you are no more to me than the meanest Paynim idolatress whom I would think scorn to touch! ”

“ But I have heard Father Eudes read a great deal more of funerals than feasts, where the blessed Lord was. He seemed to go where people wanted comforting, much oftener than where they were comfortable. He knew that many more would sorrow than rejoice."
What strange eyes Marguerite has! She can look at nothing, but she sees the good God. And the strangest thing is, that it seems to make her happy. It always makes me miserable. To think of God, when I am bright and joyous, is like dropping a black curtain over the brightness. Why cannot I be like Marguerite? ”

“ But when Messire Renaud was about to take leave, Lady Judith arose, as quietly as she does everything, and glided to his side.
"Fair Sir," she said gently, "I pray you, pardon one word from an old woman. You know years should teach wisdom."
"Trust me, Lady, to listen with all respect," said he courteously.
"Fair Sir," she said, "when you stand face to face with death, you will find It does not satisfy your need. You will want Him. You are not a thing, but a person. How can the thing produced be greater than that which produces it?" ”

“ Is that the sort of woman that men like? It is the sort that some men seem to think all women are.
But Amaury! If ever I did see a creature more absurd than he, I do not know who it was. He fidgetted over Eschine's bridal dress precisely as if he had been her milliner. At the very last minute, the garland had to be altered because it did not suit him.
Most charming of all the weddings was Guy's. Dear Lady Sybil was so beautiful, and behaved so perfectly, as I should judge of a bride's behaviour,—a little soft moisture dimming her dark eyes, and a little gentle tremulousness in her sweet lips. ”

“ Only that we are proud of different things."
"And of what art thou proud, Margot?" asked I laughingly, but rather struck to find that she had hit on the same failing (in me) as Lady Judith.
"Ha! My Damoiselle may well ask. And I cannot tell her. What is or has an old villein woman, ignorant and foolish, to provoke pride? I only know it is there. It does not fasten on one thing more than another, but there it is. And pride is a very subtle sin, if it please my Damoiselle. If I had nothing in the world to be proud of but that I was the ugliest woman in it, I believe I could be proud of that." ”

“ I said in a whisper. "Shall I speak to Guy?—or Lady Sybil?"
Lady Judith's uplifted hand said unmistakably, "No!"
"Watch," she said. "Watch and pray, and wait. Oh, no speaking!—at least, not yet."
"But till when?" I asked.
"I should say, till you all return here—unless something happen in the interim. But if thou dost speak, little one—do not be surprised if nobody believe thee. Very impulsive men, like thy brother, rarely indulge suspicion or mistrust: and Sybil is most unsuspicious. They are likely enough to think thee fanciful and unjust." ”

“ Why Adam and Eva might not eat it, I suppose, was because the good God forbade it."
"But why, Marguerite?—why?"
"Ha! I am not the good God."
"I do not see it one bit," said I. "Surely knowledge is a good thing."
"Knowledge of good, ay,—which is knowledge of God. The good Lord never forbids us that. He commands it. But let me entreat my Damoiselle to remember, that this was the tree of knowledge of good and evil. That we should know evil cannot be good."
"I do not understand why the good God ever let Satan be at all," said I. "And I do not see how Satan came to be Satan, to begin with." ”

“ I cannot find words to describe such wickedness—and he is Regent of the Holy Land, and Guy must kneel to him.
I could cut him in slices, and enjoy doing it!
I am angry with Melisende, who can find nothing to say but—"Ah, the fortune of Courts—one down to-day, another up to-morrow." And I am almost angry with Marguerite, who says softly—"Hush, then, my Damoiselle! Is it not the good God?"
No, it is not. It is the Devil who sends sorrow upon us, and makes us hate people, and makes people be hateful. I am sure the good God never made Count Raymond do such wicked things. ”

“ I can guess now!" said Marguerite. "I could not think what Monseigneur Saint John meant when he said the city was gold like clear crystal. I know now. Damoiselle, in the glacier there are walls of light, the sweetest green shading into blue that my Damoiselle can possibly imagine: they must be like that, but golden. Ha! if my Damoiselle had seen it! The great nobles have not all the good things. It is well not to be so high up that one cannot see the riches of the good God." ”

“ But I don't know any thing. And I don't like it."
"Well, I do not know even that much," she replied. "It may be so. I cannot tell. But the good Lord knows—and He loves me."
"How knowest thou that, Marguerite?"
"People don't die for a man, Damoiselle, unless they love him very much indeed."
"But how dost thou know that it was for thee?"
"It was for sinners: and I am one."
"But not for all sinners, Margot. A great many sinners will go to perdition, Father Eudes says. How canst thou tell if thou art one of them or not?" ”

“ If there be a patient creature in this world, it is Eschine: and if there be an impatient one, it is Lady Isabel.
I wonder whether I know myself? I do not think I should have set myself down as proud of my intellect. But we Lusignans always have had brains—except Amaury; he has stepped out of the ranks. And I don't like people to disagree with me, and contradict me, nor to behave as if they thought I had no sense. That is true enough. I suppose I must be proud.
And yet, it cannot be wrong to know that one has brains. What is pride? Where does the knowledge end, and the sin begin? ”

“ If the Lord have marked thee for His own—as by the strivings of His Spirit with thee, I trust He has—how sorry He must be for thee, just now!"
Sorry! Then why did He do it? When I am sorry for one I love, I do not give him bitter pain. I felt as if I should sink and die, if I did not get relief by pouring out my heart. I broke from Lady Judith,—she tried in vain to stop me—and I dashed into Lady Sybil's chamber. Queen or villein, it was all one to me then. ”

“ And she knows both."
"Which is the worse, Margot?"
"Ha! Both are bad enough, to make pride. But this I think: that even a king can never fancy himself so noble as the good God; yet a good many of us think ourselves quite as wise."
"O Margot!—who could think that?"
"Does my Damoiselle herself never think that she could arrange matters better than the good God is ordering them? What is that, but to say in our hearts, 'I am the wiser'?"
It is very queer, how Lady Judith and Marguerite always do think alike.
"Margot, who wouldst thou say was the holiest woman in this house?" ”

“ I almost hope that Eschine does not love Amaury, for I feel sure she will be very unhappy if she do. As to Messire Homfroy de Tours, I do not think Lady Isabel will find him a pleasant charger. He is any thing but spirited, and seems to me to have a little of the mule about him—a creature who would be given at times to taking the bit in his teeth, and absolutely refusing to go a yard further.
And now it is all over,—the pageants, and the feasts, and the dancing. And I cannot tell why I am sad.
How is it, or why is it, that after one has enjoyed any thing very much, one always does feel sad? ”

“ Do men ever understand women?
"'Settled,' Guy!" I said. "What dost thou mean by 'settled'? What is there about me that is unsettled?"
"Now, that is one of thy queer notions," answered Guy. "Of course, no woman is considered settled till she marries."
"I should think it was just the most unsettling thing in the world," said I.
"Lynette, thou wert born in the wrong age!" said Guy. "I do not know in what age thou wert born, but certainly not this."
"And thou wouldst be glad to lose me, Guy!"
"Nay, not glad to lose thee, little one"—I think Guy saw that had hurt me—"but glad for thine own sake. ”

“ We are all fellow-sinners, I suppose."
"Ah, Helena!" said Lady Sybil, with a sorrowful smile. "Hast thou not found, dear, that the greater sinner a man is himself, very generally, the harder he will be on other sinners—especially when their sins are of a different type from his own. The holier a man is, the more he hates sin, and yet the more tenderly will he deal with the sinner. For as sin means going away from God, so holiness must mean coming near God. And God is more merciful than men to all who come to Him for mercy."
Lady Judith came in while the last words were being spoken. ”

“ She's a woman," said Messire Amaury. "What does a woman know about governing?"
"What does a baby know?" said I.
"Oh, but he will be a man some day," answered Amaury.
"But Guy will govern in either case," I replied, trying not to be angry with him.
He is so silly, and he thinks himself so supremely wise! I do believe, the more foolish people are, the wiser they think themselves.
"Ha!" said he. "Saving your presence, Damoiselle Elaine, I am not so sure that Guy knows much about it."
"Amaury, thou art an idiot!" ”

“ How could any body make a name in that foolish way?—said Messire Amaury.
But old Marguerite thought with me. "Damoiselle," she said, "I am very thankful I came on this journey. Methinks I have a better notion what Heaven will be like than I had before we left Poitou. I did not know the good God was so rich. There seems to be no end to the beautiful things He can make. Oh, how beautiful He Himself must be! And we shall see His face. Father Eudes read it."
Whatever one says to Marguerite, she always finds something to say in answer about the good God. Surely she should have been a nun. ”

“ Beware of being entangled in it, my children."
"Heresy, holy Mother!" cried Lady Sybil, with a shocked look. "I thought I had never heard any one ascribe more of the glory of our salvation to God than she did. For she said that every thing was done for us by the good Lord, and that even our perfection was wrought by Him for us."
"And not by Him in us," said Lady Judith. "The very point of the heresy, my child. Eudoxia sees no distinction between the righteousness done for us, which is our ground of justification before God, and the holiness wrought in us, which is our conformity to His image. ”

“ Marguerite shook her head decidedly.
"Damoiselle, all that learn of the good Lord must bear the cross. He said so. 'If any man serve Me, let him follow Me'—and again, 'If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me.' Father Eudes read them both. My Damoiselle sees—'any man.' That must mean all men."
Well, I cannot understand it I only feel more puzzled than ever. I am sure it would not make me happier to carry a heavy cross. Yet Lady Judith and Marguerite are happy; I can see they are. Religion and good people seem to be full of contradictions. ”