For the first time in his life he spoke almost harshly to the child,
in his excitement. "No," he said emphatically. "You will only stand
and say 'My heye! Hi sye! Hi sye! My heye!' You can do nothing. It
would be well for you to step into the kitchen, possibly. I smell me
that there may be something burning, there. And do not come again
until I call to you. If nothing burns there, now, then something might
burn, later. It would be well for you to stay and watch." He had no
wish to hurt the poor child's feelings--but his Anna! Surely none but
he must witness this completely inexplicable, this mad outburst of
wild woe.

"What is this, my Anna?" he said softly to the weeping girl who clung
there in his arms when M'riar had left the room. "You are tear-ing,
Anna--you are tear-ing, child!" He was sure his English had escaped
him, but he could not stop to make correction.

She looked up at him, at last. "'Tear-ing? Tear-ing?' Oh, crying! Yes,
I'm crying--because I am so happy, and because--"

He was more puzzled by this extraordinary statement than he had been
by her tears. "Because you are so _happy_! Hein! A woman--she is
strange. So strange. She cries because she is so happy, then she cries
because she is so sorry. When she cries no one can tell which makes
her do it. You are sure it is the happiness, this time, that makes you
cry?"

"Quite sure," said Anna, trying hard to stifle the great sobs. "Yes; I
am certain. It is because I am so happy, and--because--I am a little
bit--af-fraid!"