The thought and its expression flashed from her at the same moment.
"Are we much younger than you and mamma were ?" she asked, smiling through her tears.
She tried to lay her head back in its old position; but as she spoke those words, her father caught her round the waist, forced her, before she was aware of it, to look him in the face--and kissed her, with a sudden outburst of tenderness which brought the tears thronging back thickly into her eyes.

"Not much younger, my child," he said, in low, broken tones--"not much younger than your mother and I were." He put her away from him, and rose from the seat, and turned his head aside quickly.

"Wait here, and compose yourself; I will go indoors and speak to your mother." His voice trembled over those parting words; and he left her without once looking round again.
She waited--waited a weary time; and he never came back.

At last her growing anxiety urged her to follow him into the house.

A new timidity throbbed in her heart as she doubtingly approached the door.