human
Seal the pouch, my lord, and send Byron, the herald, here to receive our personal instructions.
gpt
The herald has not yet returned from Cambrai, my lord, said De Vergy, who stood near by.
human
He is expected between the hours of five and six this evening.
gpt
Leave the letter, my lord, said Charles,
human
T
gpt
Be resigned, sweet one, to your fate. It is one common to women. It was my hard fate to be compelled to marry your father. It was your mother's, poor woman, and it killed her. God wills our slavery, and we must submit. We but make our fate harder by fighting against it.
human
Is there nothing I can do to save myself?
gpt
No, sweet one,
human
Has God put a curse upon women, mother?
gpt
Alas! I fear He has, answered Margaret.
human
The Holy Church teaches us that He punishes us for the sin of our mother Eve, but though He punishes us, He loves us, and we are His children. He knows what is best for us here and hereafter.
gpt
He certainly is looking to my _future_ good, if at all, sighed Yolanda.
human
But I do believe in God's goodness, mother, and I am sure He will save me. Holy Virgin! how helpless a woman is.
gpt
I believe I will pray to the Virgin. She may help us,
human
It is a pious thought, Mary,
gpt
Blessed Virgin, Thou seest my dire need. Help me. My prayer is short, but Thou, Blessed Lady, knowest how fervent it is. The duchess crossed herself, bowed her head, and murmured a fervent
human
Amen.
gpt
It was impious in me to doubt God's love, mother. I do believe I heard the Blessed Virgin say, 'Help is at hand.' At least, I felt her words, mother.