"Has baby grown any worse?"
"No'm."
"Then why do you shake your head?"
"'Cause," sobbed I, "'cause—"
And then, hiding behind her turban, I whispered,—
"O, if you tell God you want anything, is that a prayer?"
"Yes, dear, if you tell him you want little sister to get well, that is a prayer."
I moaned still more bitterly at these words, and slid out of her lap.
"Why, what is it, darling?"
"I can't tell you," said I; "I can't, I can't. There isn't anybody in this world I can tell but just Fel."