“Go thy ways, child!” murmured Lady Lisle, her voice a little softer. “It shall not take much labour to make thee an angel.”
“Aunt Isoult,” said Honor again faintly, “will He not come Himself?”
“Maybe He will, sweet heart,” answered she.
“Doth He know I want Him to come?” she said and shut her eyes wearily.
“Ay, He knoweth, darling,” said Isoult.
“Doth He know how tired I am, thinkest?” broke in Lady Lisle, bitterly. “Are three dread, woeful, crushing sorrows in six years not enough for Him to give? Will He take this child likewise, and maybe Frances and Philippa as well, and leave me to creep on alone into my grave? What have I done to Him, that He should use me thus? Was I not ever just to all men, and paid my dues to the Church, and kept my duty, like a Christian woman? Are there no women in this world that have lived worser lives than I, that He must needs visit me? Answer me, Isoult! Canst thou see any cause? Frank will tell me ’tis wicked to speak thus, if she saith aught; or maybe she shall only sit and look it. Is it wicked for the traitor on the rack to cry out? Why, then, should not I, who am on God’s rack, and have so been these six years, and yet am no traitor neither to Him nor to the Church?”
“Mother, dear Mother!” whispered Frances, under her breath.
“Well?” she resumed. “Is that all thou hast to say? I am so wicked, am I, thus to speak? But wherefore so? Come, Isoult, I await thine answer.”
It was a minute before Isoult Avery could speak; and when she did so, her voice trembled a little. She lifted up her heart to God for wisdom, and then said—
“Dear my Lady, we be all traitors unto God, and are all under the condemnation of His holy law. Shall the traitor arraign the Judge? And unto the repenting traitor, God’s hand falleth not in punishment, but only in loving discipline and fatherly training. You slack not, I count, to give Honor her physic, though she cry that it is bitter and loathsome; nor will God set aside His physic for your Ladyship’s crying. Yet, dear my Lady, this is not because He loveth to see you weep, but only because He would heal you of the deadly plague of your sins. Our Lord’s blood shed upon the rood delivereth us from the guilt of our sins; but so tied to sin are we, that we must needs be set under correction for to make us to loathe it. I pray your Ladyship mercy for my rude speaking, but it is at your own commandment.”