"Here," he mused, "is a lad in whom the principle of faith is strong
and pure,--shall I drop the poison of doubt into the open flower of
his mind, or leave it uncontaminated?" Aloud he said, kindly,
"You speak well,--you have evidently thought for yourself. Who
taught you to recognise 'the Spirit that giveth life'?"
Manuel smiled.
"Does that need teaching?" he asked.
Radiance shone in his eyes,--the look of purity and candour on his
young face was infinitely touching to the two men who beheld it,--
the one worn with age and physical languors, the other equally worn
in mind, if not in body. In the brief silence which followed,--a
silence of unexpressed feeling,--a soft strain of organ-music came
floating deliciously towards them,--a delicate thread of grave
melody which wove itself in and out the airspaces, murmuring
suggestions of tenderness and appeal. Angela smiled, and held up one
finger, listening.
"That is Mr. Leigh!" she said, "He is in my studio improvising."
"Happy Mr. Leigh!" said the Abbe with a little malicious twinkle in
his eyes, "To be allowed to improvise at all in the studio of the
Sovrani!"
Angela flushed, and lifted her fair head with a touch of pride.
"Mr.
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