"Never grow up? You mean—"
"I mean if I die," said Manuel, "or pass through what is called dying before I grow up?"
"God forbid!" said the Cardinal gently, "I would have you live—"
"But why," persisted Manuel, "since death is a better life?"
Bonpre looked at him wistfully.
"But if you grow up and are good and great, you may be wanted in the world," he said.
An expression of deep pain swept like a shadow across the boy's fair open brow.
"Oh no!" he said quietly, "the world does not want me! And yet I love the world—not because it is a world, for there are millions upon millions of worlds,—they are as numerous as flowers in a garden—but because it is a sorrowful world,—a mistaken world,—and because all the creatures in it have something of God in them. Yes, I love the world!—but the world does not love me."
He spoke in a tone of gentle pathos, with the resigned and patient air of one who feels the burden of solitude and the sense of miscomprehension. And closing the Testament he held he rested his clasped hands upon it, and for a moment seemed lost in sorrowful reverie.
"I love you," said the Cardinal tenderly, "And I will take care of you as well as I can."