"But did God give her all those children?" Angelica pursued. "Yes, indeed," said Father Ricardo. "Children are the gift of God." "Well, so I thought I had heard," Angelica remarked, with a genial air of being much interested. "But it seems such bad management to give a lady a lot of children, and then take her away so that she can't look after them." The poor old duke had been dull all day. His mind, under the influence of his father confessor, had been running on the horrors of hell, and such subjects, together with the necessity of accomplishing certain good works and setting aside large sums of money in order to excuse himself from such condemnation as the priest had ventured to hint courteously that even a great duke might entail upon himself by the quite excusable errors of his youth; but since the Heavenly Twins arrived the old gentleman had begun to see things again from a point of view more natural to one of his family, and his countenance cleared in a way which denoted that his spirits were rising. Father Ricardo was accustomed to say that the dear children's high spirits were apt to be too much for his Grace; but this was a mistake, due doubtless to his extreme humility, which would not allow him to mention himself, for whom there was no doubt the dear children _were_ apt to be too much. The old duke, upon that last remark of Angelica's, twinkled a glance at his Father Confessor which had an effect on the latter that made itself apparent in the severity of his reply: "The ways of the Lord are inscrutable," he said, "and it is presumptuous for mortals, however great their station, to attempt to fathom them." "I have heard that before too, often," said Diavolo, with a wise nod of commendation. "So have I," said Angelica; and then both children beamed at the priest cordially, and the long-suppressed chuckle escaped from the duke. Father Ricardo retired into himself. "Grandpapa," Diavolo resumed--the Heavenly Twins never allowed the conversation to flag--"Grandpapa, do you believe there ever was a little boy who never, never, told a lie?" "I hope, sir, you do not mean me to infer that you are mendacious?" the old gentleman sternly rejoined. "Mendacious?" Diavolo repeated; "that's do I tell lies, isn't it? Well, you see, sir, it's like this. If I'd been up to something, and you asked me if I'd done it, I'd say 'Yes' like a shot; but if Angelica had been up to something, and I knew all about it, and you asked me if she'd done it, I'd say 'No' flatly." "Do I understand, sir, that you would tell me a lie 'flatly'?" "Yes," said Diavolo decidedly, "if you were mean enough to expect me to sneak on Angelica." "Father Ricardo," the latter began energetically, "when you tell a lie do you look straight at a person or just past the side of their heads?" "_I_ always look straight at a person myself," said Diavolo, gravely considering the priest; "I can't help it."