“You didn’t ask in the right way, Sister––”
“Faith, I asked in ivery way I knew how! An’ whin I had th’ carbuncle on me neck I yelled at her! Sure she may have answered me prayer, fer th’ whoop I gave busted the carbuncle, an’ I got well. Ye nivir kin tell, honey. An’ so I ain’t complainin’.”
“But, Sis––I can’t call you Sister!” pleaded the girl, going to the woman and twining her arms about her neck.
“Och, honey darlin’”––tears started from the old woman’s eyes and rolled down her wrinkled cheeks––“honey darlin’, call me Katie, just old Katie. Och, Holy Virgin, if I could have had a home, an’ a beautiful daughter like you––!” She clasped the girl in her great arms and held her tightly.
“Katie, when you pray you must pray knowing that God has already given you what you need, and that there is nothing that can keep you from seeing it.”
The woman wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “An’ so, darlin’, if I want diamonds I must know that I have ’em, is it that, honey?”
“You dear thing!” murmured Carmen, drawing closer, and laying her soft cheek against the leathery visage of the old woman.
“Say that again, honey––och, say it again! It’s words, darlin’, that’s nivir been said to old Katie!”
“Why, hasn’t any one ever been kind to you?”