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Man's ill, and God is good; behold all thine homily. That man is ill, I lack no preaching friar to tell me. As to God being good, the Church saith so, and there I rest. Mary, Mother! if He were good, He would bring my Jean back to me." "Very dear Lady, God is wiser than men, and He seeth the end from the beginning." "Have done, Perrotine! I tell thee, if God be good, He will bring my Jean to me.
"And you called me after her, Mother!" said little fair-haired Margaret. "But what became of the naughty man who didn't want to come and see his poor mother when she was so sick and unhappy, Mother?" asked compassionate little Regina. "Naughty man!" echoed Baby Perrotine. Lady Hylton stroked her little Margaret's hair. "He led not a happy life, my darlings; but we will not talk about him.
"Would he come, if he were asked yet again, and knew that a few weeks maybe days would end his mother's life?" "I doubt it, Perrotine." "Wherefore? He can love well where he list." "Ay, where he list. But I misdoubt if ever he loved her at the least, sithence she let him from wedding the Damoiselle de Ponteallen." "Then he loved the Damoiselle very dearly?" "For a month ay."
Perrote shrewdly guessed that the remark had especial reference to one man, and that not the Duke of Bretagne. "Ah, that is the nature of all sinners," she said, "and therefore of all men and women also. Dame, will you hearken to your old nurse, and grant her one boon?" "That will I, Perrotine, if it be in my power.
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