Part 25 (1/2)

The old duke, upon that last remark of Angelica's, twinkled a glance at his Father Confessor which had an effect on the latter that made itself apparent in the severity of his reply: ”The ways of the Lord are inscrutable,” he said, ”and it is presumptuous for mortals, however great their station, to attempt to fathom them.”

”I have heard that before too, often,” said Diavolo, with a wise nod of commendation.

”So have I,” said Angelica; and then both children beamed at the priest cordially, and the long-suppressed chuckle escaped from the duke.

Father Ricardo retired into himself.

”Grandpapa,” Diavolo resumed--the Heavenly Twins never allowed the conversation to flag--”Grandpapa, do you believe there ever was a little boy who never, never, told a lie?”

”I hope, sir, you do not mean me to infer that you are mendacious?” the old gentleman sternly rejoined.

”Mendacious?” Diavolo repeated; ”that's do I tell lies, isn't it? Well, you see, sir, it's like this. If I'd been up to something, and you asked me if I'd done it, I'd say 'Yes' like a shot; but if Angelica had been up to something, and I knew all about it, and you asked me if she'd done it, I'd say 'No' flatly.”

”Do I understand, sir, that you would tell me a lie 'flatly'?”

”Yes,” said Diavolo decidedly, ”if you were mean enough to expect me to sneak on Angelica.”

”Father Ricardo,” the latter began energetically, ”when you tell a lie do you look straight at a person or just past the side of their heads?”

”_I_ always look straight at a person myself,” said Diavolo, gravely considering the priest; ”I can't help it.”

”It's the best way,” said Angelica with the a.s.surance of one who has tried both. ”I suppose, grandpapa,” she pursued, ”when people get old they have nothing to tell lies about. They just sit and listen to them;” and again she looked hard at Father Ricardo, whose face had gradually become suffused with an angry red.

”I should think, Father Ricardo,” said Diavolo, observing this, ”if you were a layman, you would be feeling now as if you could throttle us?”

But before the poor priest could utter the reproof which trembled on his lips, the door opened and the duke's unmarried daughter and youngest child, the beautiful Lady Fulda, entered, and changed the moral atmosphere in a moment.

Both children rose to receive her tender kisses affectionately.

Their pa.s.sionate appreciation of all things beautiful betrayed itself in the way they gazed at her; and hers was the only presence that ever subdued them for a moment.

”I like her in white and gold,” Angelica remarked to Diavolo when she had looked her longest.

”So do I,” Diavolo rejoined with a nod of satisfaction.

”My dear children!” Lady Fulda exclaimed. ”You must not discuss my appearance in that way. You speak of me as if I were not here.”

”You never seem to be here, somehow,” said Diavolo, struggling with a big thought he could not express. ”I always feel when you come in as if you were miles and miles away from us. Now, mamma is always close to us, and papa gets quite in the way; but you seem to be”--he raised both hands high above his head, with the palms spread outward, and then let his arms sink to his sides slowly. The gesture expressed an immeasurable distance above and beyond him.

”Yes,” said Angelica, ”I feel that too. But sometimes, when there's music and flowers and no light to speak of--in church, you know--and you feel as if angels might be about, or even the Lord himself, I rise up beside you somehow, and come quite close.”

Lady Fulda's eyes deepened with feeling as Angelica spoke, and drawing the child to her side, she smoothed her hair, and gazed down into her face earnestly, as if she would penetrate the veil of flesh that baffled her when she tried to see clearly the soul of which Angelica occasionally gave her some such glimpse.

The old duke glanced round at the clock, and instantly the attentive priest stepped to the window and opened it wide. Then the duke raised his hand as if to enjoin silence, and presently the music of the bells of the city clocks, striking the hour in various tones, and all at different moments, causing a continuous murmurous sea of sound, arose from below.

When the last vibration ceased there was a quite perceptible pause. The duke took off his little round black velvet cap, and leant forward, listening intently; Lady Fulda bent her head and her lips moved; the priest folded his hands and looked straight before him with the unconscious eyes of one absorbed in thought or prayer who sees not; the twins, a.s.suming a sanctimonious expression, bowed their hypocritical heads and watched what was going on out of the corners of their eyes. There was a moment's interval, and then came the chime, mellowed by distance, but clear and resonant:

[Ill.u.s.tration: (musical notation); lyrics: He, watch-ing o-ver Is--ra--el, slumbers not, nor sleeps.]

It was the habit of the old duke to listen for it hour by hour, and while it rang, he, and those of his household who shared his faith, offered a fervent prayer for the restoration of Holy Church.