“Too late,” she said, dropping her face upon her hands. “Too late!”
“Too late for what?” softly inquired a third voice—so gently and compassionately that no annoyance could be felt.
Avice was silent, and Maude answered for her.
“For the winning of a soul from Purgatory that hath passed thither without housel ne chrism.”
“Too late for the mercy of God?” replied Hugh Calverley gently. “For the housel and the chrism, they be mercies of man. But the mercies of God are infinite and unchangeable unto all such as grip hold on Jesu Christ.”
“Unto them that die in mortal sin?” said Avice, not lifting her head.
“All sin is mortal,” said Hugh in the same quiet manner; “but for His people, He hath made an end of sin, and hath ‘distreiede (destroyed) deeth, and lightnide (brought to light) lyf.’”
“That is, for the saints?” said Maude sadly.
“Mistress, an’ it had not been for the sinners, you and I must needs have fared ill. Who be saints saving they that were once sinners?”
“Soothly, Master Calverley, these be matters too high for me. I am no saint, God wot.”