Note 1. It seems very strange to us that the Count de Montfort should have imagined himself to have a better claim to the crown than his niece; but the principle under which he claimed was the law of non-representation, which forbade the child of a deceased son or brother to inherit; and this, little as it is now allowed or even understood, was not only the custom of some Continental states, but was the law of succession in England, itself until 1377. The struggle between Stephen and the Empress Maud, and that between King John and his nephew Arthur, were fought upon this principle. Note 2. The Louvre, then considered _near_ Paris, was usually mentioned without the article. CHAPTER SIX. A THANKLESS CHILD. "We will not come to Thee Till Thou hast nailed us to some bitter cross And made us look on Thee." "B.M." Amphillis took her own spindle, and sat down beside Marabel, who was just beginning to spin. "What was it so diverted Agatha at supper?" inquired Marabel. "She laughs full easily," answered Amphillis; and told her what had been the subject of discourse. "She is a light-minded maid," said Marabel. "So you thought Master Norman had a satisfied look, trow? Well, I count you had the right." "Agatha said she knew not of nought in this world that should satisfy him." Marabel smiled. "I misdoubt if that which satisfieth him ever came out of this world. Amphillis, whenas you dwelt in London town, heard you at all preach one of the poor priests?" "What manner of folks be they?" "You shall know them by their raiment, for they mostly go clad of a frieze coat, bound by a girdle of unwrought leather." "Oh, ay? I heard once a friar so clad; and I marvelled much to what Order he belonged. But it was some while gone." "What said he?" "Truly, that cannot I tell you, for I took not but little note. I was but a maidling, scarce past my childhood. My mother was well pleased therewith. I mind her to have said, divers times, when she lay of her last sickness, that she would fain have shriven her of the friar in the frieze habit. Wherefore, cannot I say." "Then perchance I can say it for you:--for I reckon it was because he brought her gladder tidings than she had heard of other." Amphillis looked surprised. "Why, whatso? Sermons be all alike, so far as ever I could tell." "Be they so? No, verily, Amphillis. Is there no difference betwixt preaching of the law--`Do this, and thou shalt live,' and preaching of the glad gospel of the grace of God--`I give unto them everlasting life?'" "But we must merit Heaven!" exclaimed Amphillis. "Our Lord, then, paid not the full price, but left at the least a few marks over for us to pay? Nay, He bought Heaven for us, Amphillis: and only He could do it. We have nothing to pay; and if we had, how should our poor hands reach to such a purchase as that? It took God to save the world. Ay, and it took God, too, to love the world enough to save it."