The Cardinal's Snuff Box

"But why," asked she, "why did you give yourself such

superfluous pains? Why couldn't you ask me for the money

point-blank? Why lure it from me, by trick and device?"

The Cardinal chuckled.

"Ah, one must keep one's hand in. And one must not look like a

Jesuit for nothing."

"Do you look like a Jesuit?"

"I have been told so."

"By whom--for mercy's sake?"

"By a gentleman I had the pleasure of meeting not long ago in

the train--a very gorgeous gentleman, with gold chains and

diamonds flashing from every corner of his person, and a

splendid waxed moustache, and a bald head which, I think, was

made of polished pink coral. He turned to me in the most

affable manner, and said, 'I see, Reverend Sir, that you are a

Jesuit. There should be a fellow-feeling between you and me.

I am a Jew. Jews and Jesuits have an almost equally bad

name!'"

The Cardinal's humorous grey eyes swam in a glow of delighted

merriment.

"I could have hugged him for his 'almost.' I have been

wondering ever since whether in his mind it was the Jews or the

Jesuits who benefited by that reservation. I have been

wondering also what I ought to have replied."

"What did you reply?" asked Beatrice, curious.

"No, no," said the Cardinal. "With sentiments of the highest

consideration, I must respectfully decline to tell you. It was

too flat. I am humiliated whenever I recall it."

"You might have replied that the Jews, at least, have the

advantage of meriting their bad name," she suggested.

"Oh, my dear child!" objected he. "My reply was flat--you

would have had it sharp. I should have hurt the poor

well-meaning man's feelings, and perhaps have burdened my own

soul with a falsehood, into the bargain. Who are we, to judge

whether people merit their bad name or not? No, no. The

humiliating circumstance is, that if I had possessed the

substance as well as the show, if I had really been a son of

St. Ignatius, I should have found a retort that would have

effected the Jew's conversion."

"And apropos of conversions," said Beatrice, "see how far we

have strayed from our muttons."

"Our muttons--?" The Cardinal looked up, enquiring.

"I want to know what you think--not of my hat--but of my man."

"Oh--ah, yes; your Englishman, your tenant." The Cardinal

nodded.

"My Englishman--my tenant--my heretic," said she.