"Why, thou meanest that Robert may be trusted, but Philippe cannot be," said I. "But what has it to do with the matter?"
"Let the Damoiselle think a moment. Does she simply believe that the good God is, or does she trust Him?"
"With myself!" I exclaimed. "Nay, Margot, what dost thou mean now?"
"How does the Damoiselle trust Monseigneur? Has she any care lest he should fail to provide her with food and clothing suitable to her rank? Does it not seem to her a matter of course that so long as he lives he will always love her, and care for her, and never forget nor neglect her? Has she ever lain awake at night fretting over the idea that Monseigneur might give over providing for her or being concerned about her welfare?"
"What a ridiculous notion!" I cried. "Why, Margot, I simply could not do it. He is my father."
"And what does my Damoiselle read in the holy Psalter? Is it not 'Like as a father pitieth his children, even so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him?' Is He not Our Father?"
"Yes, of course we expect the good God to take care of us," I replied. "But then, Margot, it is a different thing. And thou knowest He does not always take care of us in that way. He lets all sorts of things happen to hurt and grieve us."
"Then, when my Damoiselle is ill, and Monseigneur sends off in hot haste for Messire Denys to come and bleed her in the foot, he is _not_ taking care of her? It hurts her, I think."
"Oh, that has to be, Margot. As thou saidst, it is better than being ill."
"And--let my Damoiselle bear with her servant--is there no 'must be' with the good God?"
"But I don't see why, Margot. He could make us well all in a minute. Monseigneur cannot."
"Yet suppose it is better that my Damoiselle should not be made well all in a minute, but should learn by suffering to be patient in sickness, and thankful for her usual good health? Did not Monseigneur Saint David say, 'It is good for me that I have been afflicted'?"
"Is it?" quietly answered Marguerite. "I once heard a young noble lady say, about three years ago, that it was so delightful to feel well again after being ill, that it really was worth while going through the pain to reach it. And I think,--if I may be pardoned the allusion,--I think they called her the Damoiselle Elaine de Lusignan."