"Though for my part," she added, "I lean hardly upon Saint Isidore."
"You do well," said Alice, "he is a great saint. Is he your patron?"
"I think he is," said Isoult.
"Then it is he who has helped you, be sure. No other could know the ins and outs of your story so well, or make such close provision. The Archangels, you see, are few, and their business very great." Isoult agreed.
Of Prosper Alice could not get a clear image. When Isoult was upon that theme her visions blinded her, and sent her for refuge to abstractions. She candidly confessed that he did not love her; but then she did not ask that he should.
"But you pray, 'Give him me all,'" Alice objected.
"Yes, I want to be his servant, and that he should have no other. I cannot bear that any one should do for him what I can do best. That is what I tell the Holy Virgin."
"And Saint Isidore, I hope," said Alice gently; but Isoult thought not.
"It would be useless to tell Saint Isidore," she explained.
"He is a man, and men think differently of these matters. They want more, and do not understand to be contented with much less."