"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!"