ing still rested on the seed of Abraham
His friend, hidden "for a little moment" by a cloud, but one day to
burst into a refulgence of heavenly sunlight. When, therefore, Flemild
asked Ermine, as they were laying aside their out-door garb--"Don't you
hate those horrid creatures?" it was not surprising that Ermine paused
before replying.

"Don't you?" repeated Flemild.

"No," said Ermine, "I do not think I do."

"_Don't_ you?" echoed Flemild for the third time, and with emphasis.
"Why, Ermine, they crucified our Lord."

"So did you and I, Flemild; and He bids us love one another."

Flemild stood struck with astonishment, her kerchief half off her head.

"I crucified our Lord!" she exclaimed. "Ermine, what can you mean?"

"Sin crucified Him," said Ermine quietly; "your sins and mine, was it
not? If He died not for our sins, we shall have to bear them ourselves.
And did He not die for Countess too?"

"I thought He died for those who are in holy Church; and Countess is a
wicked heathen Jew."

"Yes, for holy Church, which means those whom God has chosen out of the
world. How can you know that Countess is not some day to be a member of
holy Church?"

"Ermine, they are regular wicked people!"

"We are all wicked people, till God renews us by His Holy Spirit."

"I'm not!" cried Flemild indignantly; "and I don't believe you are
either."

"Ah, Flemild, that is because you are blind. Sin has darkened our eyes;
we cannot see ourselves."

"Ermine, do you mean to say that you see me a wicked creature like a
Jew?"

"By nature, I am as blind as you, Flemild."

"`By nature'! What do you mean? _Do_ you see me so?"

"Flemild, dear friend, what if God sees it?"

Ermine had spoken very softly and tenderly, but Flemild was not in a
mood to appreciate the tenderness.

"Well!" she said in a hard tone. "If we are so dreadfully wicked, I
wonder you like to associate with us."

"But if I am equally wicked?" suggested Ermine with a smile.

"I wonder how you can hold such an opinion of yourself. I should not
like to think myself so bad. I could not bear it."

Flemild entertained the curious opinion--it is astonishing how many
people unwittingly hold it--that a fact becomes annihilated by a man
shutting his eyes to it. Ermine regarded her with a look of slight
amusement.

"What difference would it make if I did not think so?" she asked.

Flemild laughed, only then realising the absurdity of her own remark.