rthing."

"But, dear my Lady," urged Maude, not holding her peace as
requested,--"what do you, to pay so much as one farthing of that debt?
Christ our Lord hath taken the same upon Him. A debt cannot be twice
paid."

"I do verily trust," she said humbly, "that He hath paid for me the debt
eternal; yet is there a debt earthly, and this is for my paying."

"Never a whit!" cried Maude earnestly. "Dear my Lady, not one cross
[farthing] thereof! That which we suffer at the hand of our Father is
not debt, but discipline; the chastising of the son, not the work wrung
by lash from the slave. `The children are free.'"

"Ay, free from the curse and the second death," she said, still
despondingly; "but from pains and penalties of sin in this life, Maude,
not freed. An' I cut mine hand with yonder knife, God shall not heal
the wound by miracle because I am His child."

Maude felt that the illustration was true, but she was not sure that it
was apposite, neither was she convinced that her own view was mistaken.
She glanced at Sir Ademar de Milford, who sat on the settle, studying
the works of Saint Augustine, as if to ask him to answer for her.
Ademar was no longer the family confessor, for the family had given over
confessing; but Archbishop Chichele, professing himself satisfied of his
orthodoxy, had revoked the now useless writ of excommunication, and the
priest had resumed his duties as chaplain. Ademar laid down his book in
answer to the appealing glance from Maude's eyes.

"Lady," he said, "how much, I pray you, is owing to your Grace from the
young ladies your daughters, for food and lodging?"

"Owing from my little maids!" exclaimed Constance.

"That is it which I would know," replied Ademar gravely.

"From my little maids!" she repeated in astonishment.

"It is written, Madam, in His book, that as one whom his mother
comforteth, He comforteth us. Wherefore, seeing that the comfort your
Grace looketh for at His hands is to have you afore the reeve for
payment of your debts, it setteth me to think that you shall needs use
your children likewise."

"Never!" cried Constance emphatically. "And so say I, Lady," returned
Ademar significantly. "But, Sir Ademar, God doth chastise His
children!"

"Truly so, Madam, as you yours. But I marvel which is the more
sufferer--yourself or the child."

He spoke pointedly, for only the day before Isabel had chosen to be very
naughty, and had imperatively required corre