her left foot out across the curb with each step, giving her
right heel a little twirl to keep her balance.

"You are very clever, Bair-ta," said Mademoiselle, still in French, "but
you will never make a prima ballerina."

"Hulloh!" breathed Jimmie, "she's perking up."

"Isn't she?" said Miriam, feeling that she was throwing away the last
shred of her dignity.

"What was the matter?" she continued, trying to escape from her
confusion.

Mademoiselle's instant response to her cry at the sight of Pastor
Lahmann rang in her ears. She blushed to the soles of her feet.... How
could Mademoiselle misunderstand her insane remark? What did she mean?
What did she really think of her? Just kind old Lahmann--walking along
there in the outside world.... _She_ did not want to stop him.... He was
a sort of kinsman for Mademoiselle... that was what she had meant. Oh,
why couldn't she get away from all these girls?... indeed--and again
she saw the hurrying figure which had disappeared leaving the boulevard
with its usual effect of a great strange ocean--he could have brought
help and comfort to all of them if he had seen them and stopped. Pastor
Lahmann--Lahmann--perhaps she would not see him again. Perhaps he could
tell her what she ought to do.

"Oh, my dear," Jimmie was saying, "didn't you know?--a fearful row."

Mademoiselle's laughter tinkled out from the rear.

"A row?"

"Fearful!" Jimmie's face came round, round-eyed under her white sailor
hat that sat slightly tilted on the peak of her hair.

"What about?"

"Something about a letter or something, or some letters or something--I
don't know. Something she took out of the letter-box, it was unlocked or
something and Ulrica saw her _and told Lily!"_

"Goodness!" breathed Miriam.

"Yes, and Lily had her in her room and Ulrica and poor little Petite
couldn't deny it. Ulrica said she did nothing but cry and cry. She's
been crying all the morning, poor little pig."

"Why did she want to take anything out of the box?"

"Oh, I don't know. There was a fearful row anyhow. Ulrica said Lily
talked like a clergyman--wie ein Pfarrer.... I don't know. Ulrica said
she was _opening_ a letter. _I_ don't know."

"But she can't read German or English."

"_I_ don't know. Ask me another."

"It is _extraordinary."_

"What's extraordinary?" asked Bertha from the far side of Jimmie.

"Petite and that letter."

"Oh."

"What did the Kiddy _want?"_

"Oh, my dear, don't ask me t