"There be that think so," he made answer, "but I had scarce accounted my Lady Frances one ere now. Set the thing afore her in that light. This is the self spring whence cometh all the monasteries and nunneries, and anchorites' cells in all the world. Is God the author of darkness, and not of light? Doth He create evil, and not good? Tell her, when the Lord holdeth forth an honeycomb, He would have her eat it, as assuredly as, when He giveth a cup of gall into her hand, He meaneth she should drink it. And methinks it can scarce be more joyful to Him to watch her drink the gall than eat the honeycomb." The last words were uttered very tenderly. When Isoult told Frances what John had said, the tears rose to her eyes. "O Isoult! have I been wronging my God and Father?" she said in a quivering voice. "I never meant to do that." "Tell Him so, sweet heart," answered Isoult. Isoult thought her husband was right, when, on the following day, she came across the text, "The Lord that hath pleasure in the prosperity of His people." But in her innocent way she showed it to John, and asked him if he thought it meant that it was a pleasure to the Lord Himself to bestow happiness on His people. John smiled at her, as he often did. "Sweet heart," he answered, "doth it please or offend thee, when thou dost kiss Kate, and comfort her for some little trouble, and she stayeth her crying, and smileth up at thee?" "Why, Jack, 'tis one of my greatest pleasures," answered Isoult. Very gravely and tenderly he answered,--"`As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you.'" On the 17th of June, Isoult Avery wrote in her diary:-- "The church-bells are making music in mine ears as I sit to write. An hour gone, Frances and Mr Monke went forth, no longer twain, but one. God go with her, and bless her, this dear sister of mine heart, and comfort her for all she hath lost--ay, as `one whom his mother comforteth!'" The ink was scarcely dry from this entry when Philippa Basset marched in, with unrecognised step, for her shoes were new. "Why, Mrs Philippa! your new shoes wrought that I knew not your step," said Isoult, with a smile. "New shoes!" said she, "yea, in good sooth. I flung both mine old ones after Frank; and had I had an hundred pairs in my cupboard, I had sent them all flying." The thought of a hundred pairs of shoes falling about, was too much for Isoult's gravity. "One of them smote the nag on his tail," continued Philippa; "I warrant you it gave him a smart, for I sent it with all my might. 'Tis a good omen that--saving only that it might cause the beast to be restive." "Believe you in omens, Mrs Philippa?" answered Isoult. "Not one half so much as I do believe in mine own good sense," said she. "Yet I have known some strange things in my time. Well, what thinkest thou of this match of Frank's?" "I trust with all mine heart she may find it an happy and a comfortable," was the reply.