ld be, going through new
scenes!

"Mademoiselle, are you ever serious? Or are you too young to take
thought of to-morrow?"

"I am always planning for to-morrow, am I not, Pani? And if it rains I
do not mind, but go the same, except that it is not always safe on the
river, which sometimes seems as if the giant monster of the deep was
sailing about in it."

"There is another kind of seriousness, my child, and a thought of the
future that is not mere pleasure. You will outgrow this gay childhood.
You may even find it necessary to go to some other country. There may be
friends awaiting you that you know nothing of now. You would no doubt
like to have them pleased with you, proud of you. And for this and true
living you need some training. You must learn to read, to speak English,
and you will find great pleasure in it. Then you will enjoy talking to
older people. You see you will be older yourself."

His eyes were fixed steadily on hers and would not allow them to waver.
She felt the power of the stronger mind.

"I have been talking with M. Bellestre's notary. He thinks you should go
to school. There are to be some schools started as soon as the autumn
opens. You know you wanted to learn why the world was round, and about
the great continent of Europe and a hundred interesting subjects."

"But, Monsieur, it is mostly prayers. I do not so much mind Sunday, for
then there are people to see. But to have it every day--and the same
things over and over--"

She gave a yawn that was half ridiculous grimace.

"Prayers, are very good, Mam'selle. While I am away I want you to pray
for me that sometime God will bring me back safe and allow me to see
you again. And I shall say when I see the sun rising on the other side
of the world, 'It is night now in old Detroit and there is a little girl
praying for me.'"

"O Monsieur, would you be glad?" Her eyes were suffused with a mistlike
joy. "Then I will pray for you. That is so different from praying for
people you don't know anything about, and to--to saints. I don't know
them either. I feel as if they sat in long rows and just nodded to you."

"Pray to the good God, my child," he returned gravely. "And if you learn
to read and write you might send me a letter."

Her eyes opened wide in amazement. "Oh, I could never learn enough for
that!" she cried despairingly.

"Yes, you can, you will. M. Loisel will arrange it for you. And twice a
week you will go to the sisters, I have