ieve I stood and gazed on her in amaze. I could not think what
were her meaning, and I marvelled if she were not feather-brained
[wandering, light-headed] somewhat.

"God is in Heaven," she said. "I do not want God. Nor He me."

I could not tell what to say. I was too horrified.

"There was a time," saith _Blanche_, in that dreadful whisper, which
seemed me hoarser than ever, "He would--have saved me--then. But I
would not. Now--too late. Thanks! Go--good-bye."

And then _Mother_ called me.

I think that hoarse whisper will ring in mine ears, and those awful eyes
will haunt me, till the day I die. And this might have been my portion!

No word of all this said I to _Mother_. As Aunt _Joyce_ saith, she
picks up everything with her heart, and _Father_ hath alway bidden us
maids to spare her such trouble as we may--which same he ever doth
himself. But I found my Lady _Stafford_ in the little chamber, and I
threw me down on the floor at her feet, and gave my tears leave to have
their way. My Lady always seemeth to conceive any in trouble, and she
worketh not at you to comfort you afore you be ready to be comforted.
She only stroked mine head once or twice, as though to show me that she
felt for me: until I pushed back my tears, and could look up and tell
her what it were that troubled me.

"What ought I to have said, my Lady?" quoth I.

"No words of thine, _Milisent_," she made answer. "That valley of the
shadow is below the sound of any comfort of men. The words that will
reach down there are the words of God. And not always they."

"But--O my Lady, think you the poor soul can be right--that it is too
late for her?"

"There is only One that can answer thee that question," she saith. "Let
us cry mightily unto Him. So long as there is life, there may be hope.
There be on whom even in this world the Lord seems to have shut His
door. But I think they be commonly hardened sinners, that have resisted
His good Spirit through years of sinning. There is no unforgivable sin
save that hard unbelief which will not be forgiven. Dear _Milisent_,
let us remember His word, that if two of us shall agree on earth as
touching anything they shall ask, it shall be done. And He willeth not
the death of a sinner."

We made that compact: and ever sithence mine heart hath been, as it
were, crying out to God for poor _Blanche_. I cannot tell if it be
foolish to feel thus or no, but it doth seem as though I were veri