"I'm sixteen," said Clementina.

"It's a great age," said Milray. "I remember being sixteen myself; I have
never been so old since. But I was very old for my age, then. Do you
think you are?"

"I don't believe I am," said Clementina, laughing again, but still very
discreetly.

"Then I should like to tell you that you have a very agreeable voice. Do
you sing?"

"No'm--no, sir--no," said Clementina, "I can't sing at all."

"Ah, that's very interesting," said Milray, "but it's not surprising. I
wish I could see your face distinctly; I've a great curiosity about
matching voices and faces; I must get Mrs. Milray to tell me how you
look. Where did you pick up your pretty knack at reading? In school,
here?"

"I don't know," answered Clementina. "Do I read-the way you want?"

"Oh, perfectly. You let the meaning come through--when there is any."

"Sometimes," said Clementina ingenuously, "I read too fast; the children
ah' so impatient when I'm reading to them at home, and they hurry me. But
I can read a great deal slower if you want me to."

"No, I'm impatient, too," said Milray. "Are there many of them,--the
children?"