Paula colored a little as she said, "Oh, I love you all very much, uncle mine."
"Well, that's a happy reply," said my father, "and we love you also, my little daughter."
The coffee had been served. Paula had been with us four days and she knew that we never asked the blessing; but she never dreamed that anyone would hinder her from following her own custom which she still continued at every meal. Without any hesitation therefore, she repeated in front of my father, the words that had surprised us so at our very first meal. "The food which we receive, O Lord, may it be blessed in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."
"What's that you say?" said my father, hardly giving her time to conclude.
Paula, still on her feet, with her hands still joined for the prayer, fixed her great luminous eyes on my father.
She was not smiling now, and I saw that she understood that somehow she must have displeased him.
"Answer me," demanded my father. "What were you doing?"
"But …"
"Repeat those words of your prayer."
Paula quietly obeyed.