at had all at
once clouded over, grew bright again; she was to be the Bride of the
Church, her mother had said so. Mr. Boehnke said so as well, and the
priest said so. And they praised her for it. And Marianna stared at
her, "Oh, a nun! That's something very beautiful, something very grand,
oh!" And Jendrek almost looked upon her as a saint already. Everybody
looked at her in quite a different way now from what they used to do
when she was nothing but little Rosa Tiralla. Only her daddy wouldn't
hear of it--poor daddy. What a pity it was that he was so wicked. A
look full of deep thought cast a sudden gloom over the young face that
had just been so bright. Was her mother right? Would it have been
better for him never to have been born?

Rosa used to cry bitterly when the thought came to her that her father
might perhaps never go to heaven. Her dear father. He really was good;
[Pg 115] how could it be that her mother and Mr. Boehnke always said he
was not?

Doubts had lately crept into Rosa's heart, her belief in her father had
been shaken. Had her mother or the schoolmaster brought this about, or
had she become alive to many things that did not please her? Why did
her father always pinch Marianna's cheek, or even her leg when she was
standing on the ladder? That wasn't nice of him. And he used to swear,
and it's wicked to swear. Oh, how she would beg her dear father to
leave off swearing--her dear father--yes, yes, he was still her dear
father.

When Rosa now saw him come tramping across the field to meet her, she
ran up to him and threw herself into his arms.

He had been looking out for his little daughter for a long time, and
welcomed her with a loud laugh that could be heard far across the
fields.

"Well, my darling, have you confessed all your sins? _Psia krew_, if a
man had as few sins to confess as you, he wouldn't need to go to
confession."

"I've fourteen rosaries to say over," said Rosa, looking very
important. Then she added gravely, "Seven for myself and seven for you,
father."

He gave a boisterous laugh. Then he kissed her. "You're my consolation,
the key which is to open heaven's door for me. I've always said, pray,
pray, my angel. If you're praying, the devil will bang the door and
leave me outside."

Rosa shuddered. What horrid things her daddy always said. How could he
joke about such matters?

"Ah, daddy," she said, in a low, insinuating voice, thrusting her
narrow little hand into his b