We are quite safe in your hands, little woman.

You can do just as you and Mrs.Gwynne arrange." As the father watched the little, trim, sturdy figure stepping down the street he muttered to himself, "That child grows more like her mother every day." He heaved a great sigh from the depths of his heart.

"Well, God keep her, wise little woman that she is! I wish I were a wiser man.
I must be firm with her; it would be a shame to spoil her.

Yes, I must be firm." But he shrugged his shoulders and smiled at himself.

"The worst of it is, or the best of it is," he continued, "the little witch is almost always right, God bless her, just like her mother, just like her mother." He hastily wiped his eyes, and went off to his office where Mrs.Dean awaited him and her little girl with the burned hand.