“The dative case?”
Here are a couple of her expositions which were delivered with tranquil confidence:
“Chaplain, diminutive of chap. Lass is masculine, lassie is feminine.”
She is not a genius, you see, but just a normal child; they all make mistakes of that sort. There is a glad light in her eye which is pretty to see when she finds herself able to answer a question promptly and accurately, without any hesitation; as, for instance, this morning:
“Cathy dear, what is a cube?”
“Why, a native of Cuba.”
She still drops a foreign word into her talk now and then, and there is still a subtle foreign flavor or fragrance about even her exactest English—and long may this abide! for it has for me a charm that is very pleasant. Sometimes her English is daintily prim and bookish and captivating. She has a child’s sweet tooth, but for her health’s sake I try to keep its inspirations under check. She is obedient—as is proper for a titled and recognized military personage, which she is—but the chain presses sometimes. For instance, we were out for a walk, and passed by some bushes that were freighted with wild goose-berries. Her face brightened and she put her hands together and delivered herself of this speech, most feelingly:
“Oh, if I was permitted a vice it would be the gourmandise!”
Could I resist that? No. I gave her a gooseberry.
You ask about her languages. They take care of themselves; they will not get rusty here; our regiments are not made up of natives alone—far from it. And she is picking up Indian tongues diligently.