ed thee hither, Marie," the Queen said at length,
gravely, but not severely, "to hear from thine own lips the decision
which Father Denis has reported to us; but which, indeed, we can
scarcely credit. Wert thou other than thou art--one whose heavy trials
and lovable qualities have bound thee to us with more than common
love--we should have delivered thee over at once to the judgment of
our holy fathers, and interfered with their sentence no farther. We
are exposing ourselves to priestly censure even for the forbearance
already shown; but we will dare even that, to win thee from thine
accursed creed, and give thee peace and comfort. Marie canst _thou_
share the ingratitude--the obstinacy--of thy benighted race, that even
with thee we must deal harshly? Compel me not to a measure from which
my whole heart revolts. Do not let me feel that the charge against thy
people is true, without even one exception, and that kindness shown to
them, is unvalued as unfelt."

A convulsive sob was the sole reply. Marie's face was buried in her
hands; but the tears were streaming through her slender fingers, and
her slight figure shook with the paroxysm.

"Nay, Marie, we ask not tears. We demand the proof of grateful
affection on thy part; not its weak display. And what is that proof?
The acceptance of a faith without which there can be no security
in this life, nor felicity hereafter! The rejection of a fearfully
mistaken--terribly accursed--creed; condemning its followers to the
scorn and hate of man, and abiding wrath of God."

"'To the scorn and hate of man?' Alas, gracious Sovereign, it is
even so; but not to the 'abiding wrath of God,'" answered Marie,
suppressing with a desperate effort, her painful emotion. "The very
scorn and loathing we encounter confirms the blessed truth, of our
having been the chosen children of our God, and the glorious promise
of our future restoration. We are enduring now on earth the effects of
the fearful sins of our ancestors; but for those who live and die true
to His law, there is a future after death laid up with Him; that, how
may we forfeit for transitory joy?"

"If it were indeed so, we would be the last to demand such forfeit,"
answered the Queen; "but were it not for the blinding veil of wilful
rejection cast over the eyes and hearts of thy people, thou wouldst
know and feel, that however thy race were _once_ the chosen of God,
the distinction has been lost for ever, by their blaspheming reje