I'm very sorry your papa is rich." "But he isn't so very rich," said Jennie, looking sober.
"You always said he was," said Dotty, with a little triumph.
"Well, he isn't rich enough for _that_! He's only rich a little mite,--just a little teenty tonty mite," added Jennie, as she looked at Dotty's earnest face, and saw the rare tear gathering on her eyelashes.
"But _my_ father isn't rich the least bit of a speck," said Dotty, with a sudden joy.

"Nobody ever said he was.

Not so rich, at any rate, Jennie, but you could put it through a needle.

You could put it through a needle just as easy." Jennie felt very humble--a strange thing for her.

This was a new way of looking at things.
"Of course _he'll_ go to heaven, you know," said Dotty; "there's no trouble about that." "I s'pose he will," sighed Jennie, looking at her beautiful gold ring with less pleasure than usual.