ble_?"

I laughed. "The sun shines oftener in Cumberland, Lucette. I won't
defend Spitalfields. But I want to know what your grandmother told you
about the priests."

"The priests have two sides, Mademoiselle. On the one is the
confessional: you must go--you shall not choose. You kneel; you speak
out all--every thought in your heart, every secret of your dearest
friend. You may not hide one little thought. The priest hears you
hesitate? The questions come:--Mademoiselle, terrible questions,
questions I could not ask, nor you understand. You learn to understand
them. They burn up your heart, they drag down to Hell your soul. That
is one side."

"Would they see me there twice!" said I.

"Then, if not so, there is the other side. The chains, the
torture-irons, the fire. You can choose, so: you tell, or you die.
There is no more choice. Does Mademoiselle wonder that we came?"

"No, indeed, Lucette. How could I? But that was in France. This is
England. We are a different sort of people here."

"You--yes. But the Church and the priests are the same everywhere.
Everywhere! May the good God keep them from us!"

"Why, Lucette! you are praying against the Prince, if it be as you say!"

"Ah! would I then do harm to _Monseigneur le Prince_? Let him leave
there the priests, and none shall be more glad to see him come than I.
I love the right, always. But the priests! No, no."

"But if it be right, Lucette?"

"The good God knows what is right. But, Mademoiselle, can it be right
to bring in the priests and the confessions?"

"Is it not God who brings them, Lucette? We only bring the King. If
the King choose to bring the priests--"

"Ah! then the Lord will bring the fires. But the Lord bring the
priests! The Lord shut up the preches and set up the mass? The Lord
burn His poor servants, and clothe the servants of Satan in gold and
scarlet? The Lord forbid His Word, and set up images? _Comment_,
Mademoiselle! It would not be possible."

"But, Lucette, the King has the right."

"The Lord Christ has the right," said Lucette, solemnly. "Is it not He
whose right it is? Mademoiselle, He stands before the King!"

We heard Grandmamma saying good-night to my Uncle Charles at the foot of
the stairs, and Lucette ran off to her chamber.

I felt more plagued than ever. What _is_ right?

Just then Annas and Flora came up; Annas grave but composed, Flora with
a white face and red eyes.

"O Cary