Hades and of death. She
cannot die, Lady, until He bids it who counts every hair upon the head
of every child of His."

"But where will she be?--what will she be?" moaned the poor mother.

"If she be His, she will be where He is, and like Him."

"But He does not need her, and I do!"

"Nay, if He did not, He would not take her. He loves her too well,
Lady, to deal with this weak and weary lamb as He deals with the strong
sheep of His flock. He leads them for forty years, it may be, through
the wilderness: He teaches them by pain, sorrow, loneliness, unrest.
But she is too weak for such discipline, and she is to be folded early.
It is far better."

"For her,--well, perhaps--if she can be got past Purgatory. But for
me!"

"For each of you, what she needs, Lady."

"O Father Bruno, she is mine only one!"

"Lady, can you not trust her in His hands who gave His Only One for her
salvation?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

One evening about this time, Levina came up with the news that Abraham
of Norwich wished to see the Damoiselle de Malpas. Her words were civil
enough, but her tone never was when she spoke to Beatrice; and on this
occasion she put an emphasis on the name, which was manifestly not
intended to be flattering. Beatrice, however, took no notice of it.
Indeed, she was too glad to see Abraham to feel an inclination to
quarrel with the person who announced his arrival in any terms whatever.
She threw aside her work in haste, and ran down into the hall.

"My Belasez, light of mine eyes!" said the old man fervently, as he
folded her in his arms and blessed her. "Ah, there is not much light
for the old pedlar's eyes now!"

"Dost thou miss me, my father?"

"Miss thee! Ah, my darling, how little thou knowest. The sun has gone
down, and the heavens are covered with clouds."

"Was my mother very angry after I went away?"

It was not natural to speak of Licorice by any other name.

"Don't mention it, Belasez! She beat me with the broom, until
Delecresse interfered and pulled her off. Then she spat at me, and
cursed me in the name of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and all the twelve
tribes of Israel. She threw dirt at my beard, child."

The last expression, as Beatrice well knew, was an Oriental metaphor.

"Is she satisfied now?"

"Satisfied! What dost thou mean by satisfied? She gives me all the
sitten [Note 1] porridge. That is not very satisfying,