Bethsaba had forgotten her breakfast while Zeneida was speaking; her eyes opened wider and wider, her cheeks rounded and flushed; she laughed with tears in her eyes; and as Zeneida finished she jumped up from her chair, and, placing both hands on Zeneida's shoulders, looked trustfully into her eyes, as she joyfully said:
"Oh, then, you are not the devil!"
Zeneida broke into a peal of laughter.
"Who told you that I was?"
"My godmother. But I see now that it was all a lie."
"It was only a manner of speaking. If one dislikes any one very much, one says that he or she is a devil."
"It was on account of the stag that my godmother was so angry with you, was it not?"
"Yes; for that."
"But she need not then have frightened me so by telling me that the devil looked just like you."
"Oh, little goose! There is no such thing as a devil. Only that people like to ascribe their own wicked imaginings to an ideal being, who, in reality, has nothing to do with the evil within them."