"What is to be done?" I said in a whisper. "Shall I speak to Guy?—or Lady Sybil?" Lady Judith’s uplifted hand said unmistakably, "No!" "Watch," she said. "Watch and pray, and wait. Oh, no speaking!—at least, not yet." "But till when?" I asked. "I should say, till you all return here—unless something happen in the interim. But if thou dost speak, little one—do not be surprised if nobody believe thee. Very impulsive men, like thy brother, rarely indulge suspicion or mistrust: and Sybil is most unsuspicious. They are likely enough to think thee fanciful and unjust." "It would be too bad!" said I. "It would be very probable," she responded. "Holy Mother," said I, "what do you think he aims at doing?" I wanted to know, yet scarcely dared to ask, if the same dread had occurred to her as to me. "I think," she said unhesitatingly, "he aims at making himself King, by marriage, either with Sybil or with Isabel." "But he would have to murder his own wife and the lady’s husband!" cried I. "No need, in the first case. The Lady Countess suffers under some internal and incurable disorder, which must be fatal sooner or later; it is only a question of time. Her physicians think she may live about two years, but not longer. And so long as she lives, thy brother’s life is safe." "But if she were to die—?" "Then it might be well to warn him. But we know not, Helena, what may happen ere then. The Lord reigneth, my child. It is best to put what we love into His hands, and leave it there." "But how do I know what He would do with it?" said I, fearfully. "He knows. And that is enough for one who knows Him." "It is not enough for me," said I sadly. "Because thou dost not know Him. Helena, art thou as much afraid of the good God as of the Lord Regent?" "Not in the same way, of course, holy Mother," I replied; "because I think the Lord Regent a wicked man." "No, but to the same extent?" "I don’t know. I think so," said I, in a low voice. "Of Christ that died, and that intercedeth for us? Afraid of Him, Helena?" "O holy Mother, I don’t know!" I said, bursting into tears. "I am afraid it is so. And I cannot help it. I cannot tell how to alter it. I want to be more like you and old Marguerite; but I don’t know how to begin." "Wilt thou not ask the Lord to show thee how to begin?" "I have done: but He has not done it." Lady Judith laid her hand on my bowed head, as if to bless me. "Dear Helena," she said, "do not get the idea into thine head that thou wilt have to persuade God to save thee. He wishes it a great deal more than thou. But He sometimes keeps his penitents waiting in the dark basilica outside, to teach them some lesson which they could not learn if they were admitted at once into the lighted church. Trust Him to let thee in as soon as the right time comes. Only be sure not to get weary of knocking, and go away." "But what does He want to teach me, holy Mother?"