"Will my Damoiselle pardon me? I think it does help to the why; but not to the why of the why--which is what she always wants to see. Why Adam and Eva might not eat it, I suppose, was because the good God forbade it."
"I do not see it one bit," said I. "Surely knowledge is a good thing."
"Knowledge of good, ay,--which is knowledge of God. The good Lord never forbids us that. He commands it. But let me entreat my Damoiselle to remember, that this was the tree of knowledge of good _and evil_. That we should know evil cannot be good."
"I do not understand why the good God ever let Satan be at all," said I. "And I do not see how Satan came to be Satan, to begin with."
"The blessed Lord knows all about it," said Marguerite. "When my Damoiselle was a little child, I am sure she did not understand why we gave her bitter medicines. But the apothecary knew. Can my Damoiselle not leave all her questions with the good Lord?"
"I want them answered, Margot!" I cried impatiently. "If I knew that I should understand when I am dead, I would not so much mind waiting. But I don't know any thing. And I don't like it."
"Well, I do not know even that much," she replied. "It may be so. I cannot tell. But the good Lord knows--and He loves me."
"People don't die for a man, Damoiselle, unless they love him very much indeed."
"But how dost thou know that it was for thee?"
"But not for all sinners, Margot. A great many sinners will go to perdition, Father Eudes says. How canst thou tell if thou art one of them or not?"
"Ah, that did perplex me at first. But one day Father Eudes read out of the holy Gospel that all who believed in our Lord should have life eternal: so that settled it. The sinners that are lost must be those who do not believe in our Lord."
"Marguerite! don't we all believe in Him?"
"Let the Damoiselle forgive me if I speak foolishly. But there are two brothers among the varlets in the hall--Philippe and Robert. Now, I quite believe that they both exist. I know a good deal about them. I know their father and mother, Pierrot and Arlette: and I know that Philippe has a large nose and black hair, and he is fond of porpoise; while Robert has brown hair and limps a little, and he likes quinces. Yet, if I wanted to send a crown to my niece Perette, I should feel quite satisfied that Robert would carry it straight to her, while I should not dare to give it to Philippe, lest he should go to the next cabaret and spend it in wine. Now, don't I believe in Robert in a very different way from that in which I believe in Philippe?"