prayed with all her might and main.

To a certain extent, they succeeded in their object. The din of their
devotions soon penetrated to the library, where their friend Father
Dominic was chatting with Mr. and Mrs. Clayton. In a few moments the
latter stepped quietly into the lower hall.

"Abby!" she called, softly.

The little girl pretended not to hear, and kept on.

"Abby!"--there was a decision in the tone which was not to be trifled
with.

"What is it, mother?" she asked, with an assumption of innocence,
breaking off so suddenly as to startle her companions.

"Not so loud, dear. You can be heard distinctly in the library."

Abby and Larry snickered; Claire giggled without knowing why. Then
Abby applied herself with renewed earnestness and volubility to the
litany. She did not intend any disrespect: on the contrary, she meant
to be very devout. But she not only believed in the injunction "Let
your light shine before men," but felt that it behooved her to attract
Father Dominic's attention to the fact that it _was_ shining. Clearer
and higher rose her voice; deeper and louder sounded Larry's; more
shrilly piped Claire.

"Abby!" called Mrs. Clayton again, with grave displeasure. "That will
do. Children, go to your rooms at once."