Mr. Trent seemed to stand very straight indeed as Louise spoke, and Faith was ashamed that she had ever thought he resembled the ugly picture in her mother’s book.
“She’s a good child,” he said as if whispering to himself; but he easily convinced Louise that, for a few days, he could manage to take care of himself; and at last Louise, happy and excited over this change in her fortunes, hobbled off beside Mrs. Scott and Faith, while her father stood in the shop doorway looking after them.
It was a very differently dressed little daughter who returned to him at the end of the following week. She wore a neat brown wool dress, with a collar and cuffs of scarlet cloth, a cape of brown, and a cap of brown with a scarlet wing on one side. These, with her well-made, well-fitting shoes, made Louise a very trim little figure in spite of her lameness. Her hair, well brushed and neatly braided, was tied back with a scarlet ribbon. A bundle containing underwear, aprons, handkerchiefs, and hair ribbons of various colors, as well as a stout cotton dress for Louise to wear indoors, arrived at the shoemaker’s house with the little girl.
Her father looked at her in amazement. “Why, Flibbertigibbet, you are a pretty girl,” he declared, and was even more amazed at the gay laugh with which Louise answered him.
“I’ve learned a lot of things, father! I can make a cake, truly I can. And I’m learning to read. I’m so glad Faith Carew is going to live in Ticonderoga. Aren’t you, father?”
Mr. Trent looked at his daughter again, and answered slowly: “Why, yes, Flibbertigibbet, I believe I am.”