"Every night, unless for punishment I have to say a German one. Channing just shuffles his out and runs all the words together so I don't believe even God can understand them. I don't like French prayers."
"Then why do you say them?"
"Oh, we have to! All the children I know say their prayers in French. One day six of us had a race to see which could say them fastest and say the most. I beat. Want to hear me?"
"Indeed I don't!" Laine's voice was emphatic. "But I don't like French prayers for little American girls. I never cared for parrots or—"
"What kind do you say, French or American?" Dorothea was stroking her uncle's fingers one by one. "I always say my real prayers inside after I get in bed—that is, if I'm not too sleepy; and they're just plain talking to the Lord. You see, we are not allowed to speak one word except in French to Antoinette, and mother likes us to speak it to her, only she is always in such a hurry she forgets half the time. We speak English to father, all right, though; father says French for breakfast is all foolishness, and I think so, too. We take breakfast with father every morning, and we just have a grand time. Mother is never very well in the mornings, so she don't get up; but we take lunch with her when there isn't company and she isn't going out. Did you know the Dufferns had a new baby at their house?"
Laine shook his head.
"They have. It's a girl. They had four girls already, and Julia says they're going to change their doctor. He always brings girls."
"Madam-oiselle Dor-othea!"
Dorothea slipped from her uncle's lap. "I know what that means.
Whenever she says 'Madam-ois-elle Doro-thea!' through her nose it's a
German prayer. Good night." And this time she was gone.
Laine followed her to the steps to take upon himself the responsibility of her delay, and as he came back in the room he glanced at the clock and took out his watch. It wouldn't do for a girl from the country to get into New York alone at this time of night, and, of course, he would have to meet her; but why did she come at this hour of night? Ringing for his coat and hat, he put them on, then stopped to light a cigar, and as the match was held to it the front door-bell rang sharply. A moment later some one was talking to Timkins.