“‘The wind bloweth where it listeth,’” said the Grey Lady, softly: but she hardly spoke to her visitor.
Philippa rose. “I thank you for your counsel,” she said.
“And you mean, not to follow it?” was the gentle response.
“I do not know what I mean to do,” she said honestly. “I want to do right; but I cannot believe it right to deny the grace of condignity. It is so blessed a doctrine! How else shall men merit the favour of God? And I do not perceive, by your view, how men approach God at all.”
“By God approaching them,” said the eremitess. “‘Whosoever will, let him take the Water of Life freely.’ But God provideth the water; man only receiveth it; and the will to receive it is of God, not of man’s own deed and effort. ‘It is God that worketh in us.’ Salvation is ‘not of works, lest any man should boast.’”
“That is not the doctrine of holy Church,” answered Philippa, somewhat offended.
“It is the doctrine of Saint Paul,” was the quiet rejoinder, “for the words I have just spoken are not mine, but his.”
“Are you certain of that, Mother?”
“Quite certain.”
