"She sighs, indeed, my Lady; and I do not think she sleeps well," said Levina, who was the third authority. "It strikes me, under my Lady's pleasure, that she would be the better for a change." This meant, that Levina was tired of Bury Saint Edmund's. "Oh, there's nothing the matter with her!" said Eva, testily. "She never takes things to heart as I do. She'll do well enough." "Lady, I am very uneasy about dear Margaret," was Doucebelle's contribution. "I am sure she is ill, and unhappy too. I only wish I knew what to do for her." Beatrice looked up with grave eyes. "Lady, I would so gladly say No! But I cannot do it." The last person interrogated was Bruno; and by the time she came to him, the Countess was very low-spirited. His face went grave and sad. "Lady, it never does good to shut one's eyes to the truth. It is worse pain in the end. Yes: the damsel Margaret is dying." "Dying!" shrieked the unhappy mother. "Dying, Father Bruno! You said _dying_!" "Too true, my Lady." "But what can I do? How am I to stop it?" "Ah!" said Bruno, softly, as if to himself. "There is a `Talitha Cumi' from the other side too. The Healer is on that side now. Lady, He has called her. In her face, her voice, her very smile, it is only too plain that she has heard His voice. And there is no possibility of disobeying it, whether it call the living to death, or the dead to life." "But how am I to help it?" repeated the poor Countess. "You cannot help it. Suffer her to rise and go to Him. Let us only do our utmost to make sure that it is to Him she is going." "Oh, if it be so, would it be possible to have her spared the pains of Purgatory? Father, I would think it indeed a light matter to give every penny and every jewel that I have!" "Do so, if it will comfort you. But for her, leave her in His hands without whom not a sparrow falleth. Lady, He loves her better than you." "Better? It is not possible! I would die for her!" "He has died for her," answered Bruno, softly. "And He is the Amen, the Living One for ever: and He hath the keys of Hades and of death. She cannot die, Lady, until He bids it who counts every hair upon the head of every child of His." "But where will she be?--what will she be?" moaned the poor mother. "If she be His, she will be where He is, and like Him." "But He does not need her, and I do!" "Nay, if He did not, He would not take her. He loves her too well, Lady, to deal with this weak and weary lamb as He deals with the strong sheep of His flock. He leads them for forty years, it may be, through the wilderness: He teaches them by pain, sorrow, loneliness, unrest. But she is too weak for such discipline, and she is to be folded early. It is far better." "For her,--well, perhaps--if she can be got past Purgatory. But for me!" "For each of you, what she needs, Lady." "O Father Bruno, she is mine only one!" "Lady, can you not trust her in His hands who gave His Only One for her salvation?"