"That is good," approved the Cardinal.

"But is that enough?"

"Why doesn't Monsignor Langshawe call upon him--cultivate his
acquaintance--talk with him--set him thinking?" the Cardinal
enquired.

"Oh, Monsignor Langshawe!" Beatrice sighed, with a gesture.
"He is interested in nothing but geology--he would talk to him
of nothing but moraines--he would set him thinking of nothing
but the march of glaciers."

"Hum," said the Cardinal.

"Well, then--?" questioned Beatrice.

"Well, then, Carissima, why do you not take the affair in hand
yourself?"

"But that is just the difficulty. What can I what can a mere
woman--do in such a case?"

The Cardinal looked into his amethyst, as a crystal-gazer into
his crystal; and the lines about his humorous old mouth
deepened and quivered.

"I will lend you the works of Bellarmine in I forget how many
volumes. You can prime yourself with them, and then invite
your heretic to a course of instructions."