"Oh yes!" said Manuel quickly--"Prayer is like thought,--God is so
good that it is only natural to thank and praise Him. Is it not so?"

"It should be natural, my boy," answered the Cardinal slowly and
with a slight accent of melancholy,--"But for many of us in these
days I fear it is more natural still to forget than to remember. Too
often we take gifts and ignore the giver. But come now and breakfast
in my room;--for the present you shall remain with me, and I will
see what can best be done for your future welfare."

And turning to Madame Patoux he added smilingly--"You, my daughter,
with children of your own to care for, will no longer blame me for
my interest in this child, who is without protection in a somewhat
rough world. We of the Church dare not 'offend one of these little
ones'."

"Ah, Monseigneur!" murmured Madame,--"If all in the Church were like
you, some poor folks would believe in God more willingly. But when
people are starving and miserable, it is easy to understand that
often they will curse the priests and even religion itself, for
making such a mock of them as to keep on telling them about the joys
of heaven, when they are tormented to the very day of their death on
earth, and are left without hope or rescue of any kind--"

But the Cardinal had disappeared with his young charge and Madame's
speech was lost upon him. She had therefore to content herself with
relating the story of "Monseigneur's foundling" to her husband, who
just then came into the kitchen to take his breakfast before
starting off to work in his market-garden. He listened with interest