"I'm going back with Paula," I said to Louis. Then from the top of the wall, I saw her turn her head for one last look.

"Oh, let her go!" said Louis. "She can find her own way. I'm afraid the little fool is going to become impossible. Now, do as I do. But be sure and don't break your nose, for Teresa will blame me."

"You jump first," I said.

"Getting afraid, are you? All right, see me jump. One, two, three!" and down he went, in the middle of a pansy-bed, Teresa's especial pride and the object of her particular care.

"Oh, oh," I cried, viewing the ruin that Louis had made. "Now, won't Teresa be angry indeed!"

"Well, why should I care?" said Louis. "Why did she have to put flowers alongside of a perfectly good wall like this? Now, hurry up and jump. We'll fix it up and water it, and she'll know nothing about what happened."

"Oh, Louis, I'm afraid!"--Certainly the distance to the ground seemed enormous!

"What are you afraid of? I'll catch you if you fall. Don't be a 'fraidcat!'" Just at that moment I would have done anything rather than jump.

"I'm coming down by the ladder."

"No, you'll do no such thing! Now, come on; don't be a coward!"

Just at this moment we heard a voice calling, "Louis! Lisita!"

Louis turned to see Paula calling us from the bottom of the garden.

"And now what do you want?" cried Louis. "I thought you had gone home."

I profited by this diversion to come rapidly down the ladder.

"I was almost at the house," answered Paula, coming nearer, "but I didn't go in because I didn't want to meet Teresa."

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't know what to say to her, if she should ask me where you two were."

"Well, wouldn't you have told her the truth?"

"Of course, I would have had to tell her. That's why I've come back to look for you. I've run all the way. Oh, please, come now; won't you?"

My brother seemed to hesitate.

"You know I hated to disobey," added Paula, with tears in her eyes, "and at the same time, I don't like to be a 'tattle-tale.' Won't you please come home now with me?"

Louis was a good-hearted lad in spite of his shortcomings. Therefore, seeing his young cousin beginning to cry, he said, "All right, let's go.

Anyway, I can't play the way I want, especially with a pair of youngsters like you two. But, look here, Paula, you forgot the ladder. Take it away now, if you want us to play up to all your nonsense."

Paula, grabbing the ladder, simply said, "Oh, thank you so much," as she dried her tears. I went meanwhile and filled the watering-pot while Louis tried to restore the crushed pansies as best he could.

"There you are," said Louis finally, "Teresa will never know." And off we all three raced for the house.

"And so you are back already," remarked Teresa as we invaded the kitchen.

"Back already!" said Louis. "It's more than a quarter after nine, but if it hadn't been for the country cousin here, we'd have been a whole lot later."

CHAPTER SIX

IN THE MIDST OF DARKNESS

My father had not had much time to pay attention to Paula since her arrival; for on his return from his long trip he had found the head of the factory very sick. This had so increased his duties that he hardly had time in the morning to take a hurried cup of coffee, before going off to his work. In the evening, he always went to see Catalina for a few moments, and then he shut himself in his room where he worked far into the night.

It was, therefore, with a sigh of relief that he sat down at the family table on Sunday morning to take breakfast with us children.

"Now, then, Paula," he said, turning to our cousin as Teresa served us coffee, "you haven't told me how you like your new family?"

Paula colored a little as she said, "Oh, I love you all very much, uncle mine."

"Well, that's a happy reply," said my father, "and we love you also, my little daughter."

The coffee had been served. Paula had been with us four days and she knew that we never asked the blessing; but she never dreamed that anyone would hinder her from following her own custom which she still continued at every meal. Without any hesitation therefore, she repeated in front of my father, the words that had surprised us so at our very first meal. "The food which we receive, O Lord, may it be blessed in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

"What's that you say?" said my father, hardly giving her time to conclude.

Paula, still on her feet, with her hands still joined for the prayer, fixed her great luminous eyes on my father.

She was not smiling now, and I saw that she understood that somehow she must have displeased him.

"Answer me," demanded my father. "What were you doing?"

"But ..."

"Repeat those words of your prayer."

Paula quietly obeyed.

"Where did you learn that?"

"My father taught it to me. We always prayed before and after eating."

Paula said this with a trembling voice, trying to restrain her tears.

"Listen to me, Paula," my father said in a voice much less severe; "I don't wish you to imagine that I'm angry with you. In fact, I'm glad that you want to remember your father and his words. That is all very well. But I simply wish you to understand that in the future you are to conduct yourself like the other members of my family. Do you understand, my little daughter?"

"No, uncle, I don't."

"No? Well, then, I must speak more plainly. Your cousins no doubt have already told you that in this house I will permit no word relative to religion. In the future that applies to you also."

"But, uncle dear!"

"That will do. When you come to more mature years you will be able to understand my reasons, and if you should desire it at that time I will give them to you. At present it is enough for you to know that you are not to pray anymore. Hand me the morning paper, Rosa."