"Father wouldn't mind." There came at last the wonderful day when her father penetrated into the nursery.

He arrived furtively, very much, it appeared, ashamed of himself and exceedingly shy of the nurse.

He did not remain very long.
He said very little; a funny picture he had made with his blue face, his black shiny hair, his fat little legs, and his anxious, rather stupid eyes.

He sat rather awkwardly in a chair, with Nancy on his knee; he wrung his hair for things to say.
The nurse left them for a moment alone together, and then Nancy whispered: "Daddy, let's go into the gardens together, you and me; just us--no silly old nurse--one mornin'." (She found the little "g" still a difficulty.) "Would you like that ?" he whispered back.

"I don't know I'd be much good in a garden." "Oh, you'll be all right," she asserted with confidence.