t her there,
the Sister remembered, had dropped an equally cryptical remark--"She's
chock full of religion."

But gratitude quickly mastered her wonder, and the woman, pondering
the child's dramatic recital, murmured a sincere, "The Virgin be
praised!"

"Oh," said Carmen, looking up quickly as she caught the words, "you
people up here talk just like those in Simiti. But Padre Jose said you
didn't know, either. You ought to, though, for you have had so many
more ad--advantages than we have. Senora, there are many big, clumsy
words in the English language, aren't there? But I love it just the
same. So did Padre Jose. We used to speak it all the time during the
last years we were together. He said it seemed easier to talk about
God in that language than in any other. Do you find it so, Senora?"

"What do you mean, child?" asked the puzzled Sister. "And who is this
Jose that you talk so much about?"

"He--taught me--in Simiti. He is the priest there."

"Well," replied the Sister warmly, "he seems to have taught you queer
things!"

"Oh, no!" returned Carmen quickly, "he just taught me the truth. He
didn't tell me about the queer things in the world, for he said they
were not real."

Again the Sister stared at the girl in dumb amazement. But the child's
thought had strayed to other topics. "Isn't it cold up here!" she
exclaimed, shivering and drawing her dress about her. "I guess I'll
have to put on these shoes to keep my feet warm."

"Certainly, child, put them on!" exclaimed the Sister. "Didn't you
wear shoes in your country?"

"No," replied Carmen, tugging and straining at the shoes; "I didn't
wear much of anything, it was so warm. Oh, it is beautiful down there,
Senora, so beautiful and warm in Simiti!" She sighed, and her eyes
filled with tears. But she brushed them away and smiled bravely up at
the Sister. "I've come here because it is right," she said with a firm
nod of her head. "Padre Jose said I had a message for you. He said you
didn't know much about God up here. Why, I don't know much of anything
else!" She laughed a happy little laugh as she said this. Then she
went on briskly:

"You know, Senora, Padre Jose isn't really a priest. But he said he
had to stay in the Church in order to teach me. I never could
understand why. I am sure he just thought wrong about it. But, anyway,
he will not have to be a priest any more, now that I have gone, will
he? You know, Don Jorge said priests were a bad lot; bu