said Bruno, in the same quiet tone. "Had our Lord sent thee to
clear His Temple of the profane who desecrated it by traffic, thou
wouldst have overthrown the tables of the money-changers, but not the
seats of them that sold doves."

Beatrice and Doucebelle answered by a smile of intelligence; Eva looked
rather dissatisfied.

"But it is not a sin to be happy, Father?" asked Margaret in a low
voice.

"Not if God give thee the happiness."

"That is just it!" said Eva, discontentedly. "How is one to know?"

"My child," answered Bruno, ignoring the tone, "God never means His
children to put any thing into the place of Himself. The moment thou
dost that, that thing is sin to thee."

"But when do we do that, Father?" asked Doucebelle.

"When it makes thee forget to say thy prayers, I should think," drily
observed Beatrice.

"When it comes in the way between Him and thee," said Bruno.

"And is it a sin to waste time, Father?" queried Eva.

"It is a sin to waste any thing," answered Bruno. "But if it be more a
sin to waste one thing than another, surely it is to waste life itself."

He rose and went away. Eva shrugged her shoulders with a wry face.

"There never was any body so precise as Father Bruno! I would rather
ask questions of Father Nicholas, ten times over."

"Well, I don't like asking questions of Father Nicholas," responded
Doucebelle, "because he never answers them. He never goes down to the
bottom of things."

"_Ha, chetife_!" cried Eva. "Dost thou want to get to the bottom of
things? That is just why I like Father Nicholas, because he never
bothers one with reasons and distinctions. It is only, `Yes, thou
mayest do so,' or `No, do not do that,'--and then I am satisfied. Now,
Father Bruno will persist in explaining why I am not to do it, and that
sometimes makes me want to do it all the more. It seems to leave it in
one's own hands."

Beatrice broke into a laugh. "Why, Eva, thou wouldst rather be a chair
to be moved about, than a woman to be able to go at pleasure."

"I would rather have a distinct order," said Eva, a little scornfully.
"`Do,' or `Don't,' I can understand. But, `Saint Paul says this,' or
`Saint John says that,' and to have to make up one's own mind,--I detest
it."

"And I should detest the opposite."

"I am afraid, Beatrice, thou art greatly wanting in the virtue of holy
obedience. But of course one can make allowances for thine unhappy
education."

Eva had oc