The Cardinal's Snuff Box - Page 82/133

"If I can live to see Rome restored to the Pope, I shall die

content, even though I cannot live to see France restored to

the King," said the old Frenchwoman.

"And I--even though I cannot live to see Britain restored to

the Faith," said the Monsignore.

The Duchessa smiled at Peter.

"What a hotbed of Ultramontanes and reactionaries you have

fallen into," she murmured.

"It is exhilarating," said he, "to meet people who have

convictions."

"Even when you regard their convictions as erroneous?" she

asked.

"Yes, even then," he answered. "But I'm not sure I regard as

erroneous the convictions I have heard expressed to-night."

"Oh--?" she wondered. "Would you like to see Rome restored to

the Pope?"

"Yes," said he, "decidedly--for aesthetic reasons, if for no

others."

"I suppose there are aesthetic reasons," she assented. "But

we, of course, think there are conclusive reasons in mere

justice."

"I don't doubt there are conclusive reasons in mere justice,

too," said he.

After dinner, at the Cardinal's invitation, the Duchessa went

to the piano, and played Bach and Scarlatti. Her face, in the

soft candlelight, as she discoursed that "luminous, lucid"

music, Peter thought . . . But what do lovers always think of

their ladies' faces, when they look up from their pianos, in

soft candlelight?

Mrs. O'Donovan Florence, taking her departure, said to the

Cardinal, "I owe your Eminence the two proudest days of my

life. The first was when I read in the paper that you had

received the hat, and I was able to boast to all my

acquaintances that I had been in the convent with your niece by

marriage. And the second is now, when I can boast forevermore

hereafter that I've enjoyed the honour of making my courtesy to

you."

"So," said Peter, as he walked home through the dew and the

starlight of the park, amid the phantom perfumes of the night,

"so the Cardinal does n't approve of mixed marriages and, of

course, his niece does n't, either. But what can it matter to

me? For alas and alas--as he truly said--it's hardly a

question of actuality."

And he lit a cigarette.