believed that in a universe like ours nothing was impossible--that
there were more things in heaven and earth than people generally dreamed
of--that he could see no reason why the Blessed Virgin should not have
sent us across the children's path. Oh, he meant it. I am perfectly sure
he meant it."

The Cardinal smiled--at her eagerness, perhaps.

"Well, then," he repeated, "we must conclude that he has a philosophic
mind."

"But what is one to do?" asked she. "Surely one ought to do something?
One ought to follow such an admission up? When a man is so far on the
way to the light, it is surely one's duty to lead him farther?"

"Without doubt," said the Cardinal.

"Well--? What can one do?"

The Cardinal looked grave.

"One can pray," he said.

"Emilia and I pray for his conversion night and morning."

"That is good," he approved.

"But that is surely not enough?"

"One can have Masses said."

"Monsignor Langshawe, at the castle, says a Mass for him twice a week."

"That is good," approved the Cardinal.

"But is that enough?"

"Why doesn't Monsignor Langshawe call upon him--cultivate his
acquaintance--talk with him--set him thinking?" the Cardinal enquired.

"Oh, Monsignor Langshawe!" Beatrice sighed, with a gesture. "He is
interested in nothing but geology--he would talk to him of nothing
but moraines--he would set him thinking of nothing but the march of
glaciers."

"Hum," said the Cardinal.

"Well, then--?" questioned Beatrice.

"Well, then, Carissima, why do you not take the affair in hand
yourself?"

"But that is just the difficulty. What can I what can a mere woman--do
in such a case?"

The Cardinal looked into his amethyst, as a crystal-gazer into his
crystal; and the lines about his humorous old mouth deepened and
quivered.

"I will lend you the works of Bellarmine in I forget how many volumes.
You can prime yourself with them, and then invite your heretic to a
course of instructions."

"Oh, I wish you would n't turn it to a joke," said Beatrice.

"Bellarmine--a joke!" exclaimed the Cardinal. "It is the first time
I have ever heard him called so. However, I will not press the
suggestion."

"But then--? Oh, please advise me seriously. What can I do? What can a
mere unlearned woman do?"

The Cardinal took snuff. He gazed into his amethyst again, beaming at
it, as if he could descry something deliciously comical in its depths.
He gave a soft little laugh. At last he looked up.