members of the church universal, to which I also, through the grace of God, belong. You see then, Monsignore, that I am more Catholic than you!
To this tirade, which I spoke standing, or rather passing through the doorway, Monsignore di Merode did not seem exactly to know what he should reply; but he did not look quite satisfied, and said finally:
“I see, at least, that you are in the right way to become Catholic, and I hope that you will become more and more so, and actually so.”
Myself.—I too, hope the same.
Mons. de M.—Aha!——Really?
Myself.—Yes; but we do not understand the thing in the same way. The Pope is less exclusive on this question than you other Catholics.
Mons. de M.—How!—We other Catholics! and in Sweden? How liberal are people there? There, in the first place, people are very exclusive, very intolerant.
Myself.—People would there be more liberal, Monsignore, if the Catholics were less exclusive.
Mons. de M.—I hope that Sweden will one day become exclusive in the Catholic sense.
“That I do not hope,” replied I, smiling, as I made a movement to take my leave.
“Can I be of service to you in any way?” inquired the polite Cardinal. “May I show you some pictures of Overbeck's on subjects for La Via Crucis?”
And the obliging Monsignore conducted me into one of the anterooms, where these paintings were. He was soon, however, summoned again to the Pope to conduct to the presence three ladies with a load of
