Eliza sat on her father's knee. Richard observed the beautiful child with her fine features and golden silken locks that hung about her tender face. The winning expression of innocence and gentleness in her mild, childish eyes particularly struck him.
"A beautiful, lovely child," said he involuntarily, and as he looked in Siegwart's face he read there a deep love and a quiet, fatherly fondness for the child.
"Eliza is not always as lovely and good as she is now," he returned. "She has still some little faults which she must get rid of."
"Yes, that's what Angela said," chattered the little one. "Angela said I must be very good; I must love to pray; I must obey my father and mother; then the angels who are in heaven will love me."
"Can you pray yet, my child," said Richard.
"Yes, I can say the 'Our Father' and the 'Hail Mary.' Angela is teaching me many nice prayers."
She looked at the stranger a moment and said with childish simplicity,
"Can you pray too?"
"Certainly, my child," answered Frank, smiling; "but I doubt whether my prayers are as pleasing to God as yours."
"Angela also said we should not lie," continued Eliza. "The good God does not love children who lie."