dear my Lady, this is not because He loveth to see you weep, but
only because He would heal you of the deadly plague of your sins. Our
Lord's blood shed upon the rood delivereth us from the guilt of our
sins; but so tied to sin are we, that we must needs be set under
correction for to make us to loathe it. I pray your Ladyship mercy for
my rude speaking, but it is at your own commandment."

"Ah! 'tis pity thou art not a man, that thou mightest have had the
tonsure," replied Lady Lisle drily. "Ah me, children! If this be
physic, 'tis more like to kill than cure."

Little Honor lived through the night; and when the morning came, they
were still awaiting the King's messenger. As those who loved her sat
round her bed, the child opened her eyes.

"Aunt Isoult," she said in her little feeble voice, "how soon will Jesus
come and take me?"

Isoult looked for an answer to Dr Thorpe, who was also present. He
brushed his hand over his eyes.

"Would you liefer it were soon or long, little maid?" said he.

"For Mother's sake, I would liefer He waited," she whispered; "but for
mine, I would He might come soon. There will be no more physic, will
there--nor no more pain, after He cometh?"

"Poor heart!" exclaimed Lady Lisle, who sat in the window.

"Nay, little maid," answered Dr Thorpe.

"Nor no more crying, Honor," said Isoult.

"I would He would take Mother along with me," pursued the child. "She
hath wept so much these two years past. She used to smile so brightly,
and it was so pretty to see her. I would she could do that again."

"Thou shalt see her do that again, dear Honor," said Isoult, as well as
she could speak, "but not, methinks, in this world."

But her voice failed her, for she remembered a time when that smile had
been brighter than ever Honor saw it.

"If He would take us all," the child continued faintly: "me, and Mother,
and Arthur, and Grandmother, and Aunt Philippa! And Father is there
waiting--is not he?"

"I think he is, Honor," answered Isoult.

"That would be so good," she said, as she closed her eyes. "Aunt
Isoult, would it be wrong to ask Him?"

"It is never wrong to tell Him of our wants and longings, dear heart,"
was the answer. "Only we must not forget that He knoweth best."

"Please to ask Him," the child whispered. But Isoult's voice broke down
in tears. "Ask Him thyself, little maid," said Dr Thorpe. The child
folded her little hands on her breast. "Lord Jesus!" she