It must; she is so much upon it.

And as for her old father"-- he laughed a little, though a suspicious moisture softened his keen eyes--"why, he doesn't love her at all.

Ask her! She knows it." Thelma rose quickly and kissed him.

How deliciously those sweet lips pouted, thought Errington, and what an unreasonable and extraordinary grudge he seemed to bear towards the venerable _bonde_ for accepting that kiss with so little apparent emotion! "Hush, father!" she said.

"These friends can see too plainly how much you spoil me.