"Och, honey darlin'"--tears started from the old woman's eyes and rolled down her wrinkled cheeks--"honey darlin', call me Katie, just old Katie. Och, Holy Virgin, if I could have had a home, an' a beautiful daughter like you--!" She clasped the girl in her great arms and held her tightly.

"Katie, when you pray you must pray knowing that G.o.d has already given you what you need, and that there is nothing that can keep you from seeing it."

The woman wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "An' so, darlin', if I want diamonds I must know that I have 'em, is it that, honey?"

"You dear thing!" murmured Carmen, drawing closer, and laying her soft cheek against the leathery visage of the old woman.

"Say that again, honey--och, say it again! It's words, darlin', that's nivir been said to old Katie!"

"Why, hasn't any one ever been kind to you?"

"Kind! Och, ivirybody's kind to me, honey! But n.o.body has ivir loved me--that way. The good Lord made me a fright, honey--ain't ye noticed?

I've a face like an owl. An' they told me from th' cradle up I'd nivir land a man. An' I didn't, honey; they all ran from me--an' so I become a bride o' th' Church. But I ain't complainin'."

"But, Katie, the face is nothing. Why, your heart is as big--as big as the whole world! I hadn't been with you an hour before I knew that.

And, Katie dear, I love you."

"Och, darlin'," murmured the woman, "sure th' Virgin be praised fer sendin' ye to me, a lonely old woman!"

"It was not the Virgin, Katie, but G.o.d who brought me here," said the girl gently, as she caressed the old Sister's cheek.

"It's all one, honey; the Virgin's th' Mother o' G.o.d."

"Why, Katie! You don't know what you are saying!"

"Troth, child, she has th' same power as G.o.d! Don't we pray to her, an' she prays to th' good G.o.d to save us? Don't she have influence with Him?"

"No, Katie, no. There is no person or thing that persuades G.o.d to be good to His children. There is nothing that influences Him. He is infinite--infinite mind, Katie, and infinite good. Oh, Katie, what awful things are taught in this world as truth! How little we know of the great G.o.d! And yet how much people pretend they know about Him!

But if they only knew--really _knew_, as Jesus did--why, Katie, there wouldn't be an old person, or a sick or unhappy one in the whole world! Katie," after a little pause, "I know. And I'm going to tell them."

The old Sister drew the child closer. "Air these more o' yer funny notions, darlin'?"

"I suppose they are what the world thinks funny, Katie," answered the girl.

"An' I don't wonder! We are not taught such things, honey. But then, th' world moves, girlie--even old Katie sees that. Only, the Church don't move with it. An' old Katie can see that, too. An' so, I'm thinkin', does Father Waite."

"I know he does, Katie."

"Faith, an' how do ye know it, child?"

"He talked with me--a long time, this morning. He said G.o.d had taught me what I know."

"Aye, is it so? Thin me own suspicions air right; he's out o' tune!

Did ye say, girlie dear, that he didn't scold ye fer yer funny notions?"

"No, Katie, he said they were right."

"Did he so! Thin, la.s.sie dear, things is goin' to happen. An' he's a good man--troth, they make no better in this world!"

The old Sister lapsed into thought. Carmen looked out wonderingly over the city. She yearned to know what it held for her.

"Katie," she said at length, bending again over the woman, "will you help me find Mr. Reed?"

"Och, la.s.sie--what's your name again?"

"Carmen," replied the girl, "Carmen Ariza."

"Cair-men Aree--now ain't that a name fer ye! An' yer nationality, girl?"

"I'm a Colombian, Katie."

"Whist! Where is it? In Afrikay?"

"South America," with a little sigh.

"Now think o' that! An' I'm Scotch-Irish, honey; an' we're both a long way from th' ol' sod! La.s.sie dear, tell me about last night. But, no; begin 'way back. Give us th' whole tale. Old Katie's weak in th' head, girlie, but she may see a way out fer ye. Th' Virgin help ye, puir bairn!"

Midnight boomed from the bell in a neighboring tower when Carmen finished her story.

"Be the Saints above!" exclaimed the old Sister, staring at the girl in amazement. "Now do ye let me feel of ye to see that ye air human; fer only a Saint could go through all that an' live to tell it! An'

the place ye were in last night! Now be Saint Patrick, if I was rich I'd have Ma.s.ses said every day fer that Jude who brung ye here! Don't tell me th' good Lord won't forgive her! Och, G.o.d! she's a Saint already."

"She's a good woman, Katie; and, somehow, I felt sorry for her, but I don't know why. She has a beautiful home in that hotel--"

"Hotel, is it! Hivins above! But--och, sure, it was a hotel, honey.

Only, ye air better off here wi' old Katie."

"And now you will help me?"

"Help you, la.s.sie! G.o.d bless ye, yes! But--unless it's wi' Father Waite, I don't know what I can do. Ye air in bad with th' Sister Superior fer yer talk at th' breakfast table. Ye're a fresh little heathen, honey. An' she's suspicious of Father Waite, too. We all air.

An' he th' best man on airth! But his doctrine ain't just sound, sweatheart. Hivins, doctrine! It means more'n a good heart! There, honey, lave it to me. But it's got to be done quick, or th' Sister Superior'll have ye in an orphan asylum, where ye'll stay till ye air soused in th' doctrine! I can manage to get word to Father Waite to-morrow, airly. Jinny will run over fer me. A bit of a word wi'

him'll fix it, la.s.sie dear. An' now, honey swate, off with them funny clothes and plump into bed. Saints above! it's all but marnin' now!"

A few minutes later the woman turned to the girl who lay so quiet at her side.

"Honey," she whispered, "was ye tellin' me awhile back that ye knew the right way to pray?"

"Yes, Katie dear," the child murmured.

"Thin do you pray, la.s.s, an' I'll not trouble the Virgin this night."

"Well, Father, what do you think now?" The Sister Superior looked up aggressively, as Father Waite slowly entered the room. His head was bowed, and there was a look of deep earnestness upon his face.

"I have talked with her again--an hour, or more," he said reflectively.

"She is a--a remarkable girl, in many ways." He stopped, uncertain how to proceed.