“That is a sad experience, my daughter,” returned the Cardinal smiling,—­“Nevertheless, it is our duty to go on doing kindnesses, no matter what the results to ourselves may be.  It is understood—­is it not? that we are to be misjudged in this world.  If we had nothing to suffer, what would be the use of exercising such virtues as patience and endurance?”

“Ah, Monseigneur, for you it is different,” said Madame Patoux shaking her head and sighing—­“You are like the blessed saints—­safe in a niche of Holy Church, with Our Lady for ever looking after you.  But for poor people such as we are—­we see the rough side of life, Monseigneur—­and we know that there is very little goodness about in the world,—­and as for patience and endurance!—­why, no one in these days has the patience to endure even the least contradiction!  Two men,—­aye even brothers,—­will fight for a word like mongrels quarrelling over a bone;—­and two women will scream themselves hoarse if one should have a lover more than the other—­asking your pardon, Monseigneur, for such wicked talk!  Still, wicked as it may be, it is true—­and not all the powers of Heaven seem to care about making things better.  And for this boy,—­believe me,—­you had better leave him to his own way—­for there will be no chance of getting such a poor little waif into the school unless his father and mother are known, or unless someone will adopt him, which is not likely . . . for Rouen is full of misery, and there are enough mouths to feed in most families—­and . . . mon Dieu!—­is that the child?”

Thus abruptly she broke off her speech, utterly taken aback as she suddenly perceived the little Manuel standing before her.  Poorly clad in the roughest garments as he was, his grace and plaintive beauty moved her heart to quick compassion for his loneliness as he came towards the Cardinal, who, extending one hand, drew him gently to his side and asked if he had slept well?

“Thanks to your goodness, my lord Cardinal,” the boy replied, “I slept so well that I thought I was in Heaven!  I heard the angels singing in my dreams;—­yes!—­I heard all the music of a happy world, in which there never had been known a sin or sorrow!”

He rested his fair head lightly against the Cardinal’s arm and smiled.  Madame Patoux gazed at him in fascinated silence,—­gazed and gazed,—­till she found her eyes suddenly full of tears.  Then she turned away to hide them,—­but not before Cardinal Bonpre had observed her emotion.

“Well, good mother” he said with gentle emphasis on the word—­“Would you have me forsake this child that I have found?”

“No, Monseigneur,—­no,” said Madame Patoux very softly and tremulously—­“It is almost as if he were a little lost Angel sent to comfort you.”

A curious thrill went through the Cardinal.  An angel to comfort him!  He looked down at Manuel who still clung caressingly to his arm, and who met his earnest scrutiny with a sweet candid smile.