ne. But it is only for the men. The women
cook and learn to dress deerskins until they are like velvet. They must
make the clothing, for not a great deal comes from France. And it would
only do for ladies like you and Madame Giffard."

"But there must be some education, some training, some prayers," and the
lady looked rather helpless.

She was very sweet and beautiful in her soft silken dress of gray, that
was flowered in the same color, and trimmed with fur and velvet. From
her belt depended a chain of carved ivory beads and a crucifix, from
another chain a small oval looking-glass in a silver frame. Her flaring
collar of lace and the stomacher were worked in pearls. Many Parisians
had them sewn with jewels.

"I can read French very well," said Rose, after a pause. "And some
Latin."

"Oh, the prayers, and some of the old hymns----"

"No, it isn't prayers exactly--except to their gods. There are so many
gods. Jove was the great one."

"Oh, my child, this is heresy. There is but one God and the Holy Virgin,
and the saints to whom you can make invocation."

"Well, then I think you have a number of gods. Do you pray to them all?
And what do you pray for?"

"For the wicked world to be converted to God, for them to love Him, and
serve Him."

"And how do they serve Him?" inquired the child. "If He is the great God
Father Jamay teaches He can do everything, have everything. It is all
His. Then why does He not keep people well, so they can work, and not
blight the crops with fierce storms. Sometimes great fields of maize are
swept down. And the little children die; the Indians kill each other,
and at times the white men who serve them."

"Oh, child, you do not understand. There must be convents in this new
world for the training of girls. They must be taught to pray that God's
will may be done, not their own."

"How would I know it was God's will?" asked the irreverent child,
decisively, yet with a certain sweetness.

"The good Father would tell you."

"How would he know?"

"He lives a holy life in communion with God."

"What is the convent like?" suddenly changing her thoughts.

"It is a large house full of little ones, the sisters' cells, the
novices' cells----"

"There are some at the post. They put criminals in them. They are filthy
and dark," with a kind of protesting vehemence.

"These are clean, because they are whitewashed, and you scrub the floor
twice a week. There is a little pallet on which