Should not I?
You do not grudge that I should leave you, that I should die, if need be ?" An anxious, almost wistful tone crept into his voice.
Bravely the little girl looked up into the dark face.
"I remember my mother," she said; "I would be like her." "Aha!" cried her father, catching her to his breast, "I judged you rightly.

You are her daughter, and you will live worthy of her.
Kalman, come hither.

Irma, you will care for your brother.

He is young.

He is a boy.