"Why," saith _Father_, with that twinkle in his eyes which means fun, "I am one of the meaner intelligences of the universe, and I wis not. If you can find any whither the Angel _Gabriel_, you may ask at him if he can untie your knots." "Now, _Aubrey_, that is right what mads me!" breaks in Aunt _Joyce_. "Sir _Robert_ asks why we be told no more, and thine answer is but to repeat that we be told no more. Do, man, give a plain answer to a plain question." "Nay, now thou aft like old Lawyer _Pearson_?" quoth _Father_. "`I wis not, Master,' saith the witness. `Ay, but will you swear?' saith he. `Why,' quoth the witness, `how can I swear when I wis not?' `Nay, but you must swear one way or an other,' saith he. Under thy leave, _Joyce_, I do decline to swear either way, seeing I wis not." Aunt _Joyce_ gives a little stamp of her foot. "What on earth is the good of men, when they wit no more than women?" quoth she: whereat all laughed. "Ah, some women have great wits," saith _Father_. "Give o'er thy mocking, _Aubrey_!" answers she. "Tell us plain, what notion thou hast, and be not so strict tied to chapter and verse." "Of what worth shall then be my notions? Well," saith _Father_, "I have given them on the one matter. As for the origin of evil, I find the origin of mine evil in mine own heart, and no further can I get except to _Satan_." "Ay, but I would fain reach over _Satan_," saith she. "That shall we not do without _Satan_ overreaching us," quoth _Father_. "Well, then--as to free-will and grace, I find both. `Whosoever will, take of the water of life,'--and `Yet will ye not come unto Me that ye might have life.' But also I find, `No man can come to Me, except the Father draw him;' and that faith cometh `Not of yourselves; it is the gift of God.'" "Come, tarry not there!" saith Aunt _Joyce_. "How dost thou reconcile them?" "Why, I don't reconcile them," quoth he. "Ay, but do!" she makes answer. "Well," saith he, "if thou wilt come and visit me, _Joyce_, an hundred years hence, at the sign of the _Burnt-Sacrifice_, in _Amethyst_ Lane, in the _New Jerusalem_, I will see if I can do it for thee then." "_Aubrey Louvaine_!" saith Aunt _Joyce_, "thou art--" "Not yet there," he answers. "I am fully aware of it." "The wearifullest tease ever I saw, when it liketh thee!" saith she. "Dost thou know, _Joyce_," quoth _Mother_, laughing merrily, "I found out that afore I was wed. He did play right cruelly on mine eagerness once or twice." "Good lack! then why didst thou wed him?" saith Aunt _Joyce_. _Mother_ laughed at this, and _Father_ made a merry answer, which turned the discourse to other matter, and were not worth to set down. So we gat not back to our sad talk, but all ended with mirth.