“I see many flowers,” she replied in a sweet, small voice and with an accent as good as his own.
“Yes, but not many good ones. However, such as they are, go out and gather some for ces dames.”
The child turned to him with her smile heightened by pleasure. “May I, truly?”
“Ah, when I tell you,” said her father.
The girl glanced at the elder of the nuns. “May I, truly, ma mère?”
“Obey monsieur your father, my child,” said the sister, blushing again.
The child, satisfied with this authorisation, descended from the threshold and was presently lost to sight. “You don’t spoil them,” said her father gaily.
“For everything they must ask leave. That’s our system. Leave is freely granted, but they must ask it.”
“Oh, I don’t quarrel with your system; I’ve no doubt it’s excellent. I sent you my daughter to see what you’d make of her. I had faith.”
“One must have faith,” the sister blandly rejoined, gazing through her spectacles.