So I stopped doing it." "And the others ?" "I don't know about the others," said Bobbie.

"I never said anything about THAT to them.

But I expect they felt the same about it as me." "Bobbie dear," said Mother, still leaning her head against her, "I'll tell you.

Besides parting from Father, he and I have had a great sorrow--oh, terrible--worse than anything you can think of, and at first it did hurt to hear you all talking of him as if everything were just the same.

But it would be much more terrible if you were to forget him.
That would be worse than anything." "The trouble," said Bobbie, in a very little voice--"I promised I would never ask you any questions, and I never have, have I?
But--the trouble--it won't last always ?" "No," said Mother, "the worst will be over when Father comes home to us." "I wish I could comfort you," said Bobbie.
"Oh, my dear, do you suppose you don't?
Do you think I haven't noticed how good you've all been, not quarrelling nearly as much as you used to--and all the little kind things you do for me--the flowers, and cleaning my shoes, and tearing up to make my bed before I get time to do it myself ?" Bobbie HAD sometimes wondered whether Mother noticed these things.
"That's nothing," she said, "to what--" "I MUST get on with my work," said Mother, giving Bobbie one last squeeze.