"
"Reassure yourself, madame, on that point," said he, cheerfully: "I
should imagine there is scarcely any language in Europe that your
daughter does not know something of. You will not have to speak English
to her at all."
She looked up with bright eagerness in her eyes.
"But not Magyar?"
"I do not know for certain," he said, "for I don't know Magyar myself;
but I am almost convinced she must know it. She has told me so much
about her countrymen that used to come about the house; yes, surely they
would speak Magyar."
A strange happy light came into the woman's face; she was communing with
herself--perhaps going over mentally some tender phrases, full of the
soft vowel sounds of the Magyar tongue.
"That," said she, presently, and in a low voice, "would be my crowning
joy. I have thought of what I should say to her in many languages; but
always 'My daughter, I love you,' did not have the right sound. In our
own tongue it goes to the heart. I am no longer afraid: my girl will
understand me."
"I should think," said he, "you will not have to speak much to assure
her of your love.
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