"An' when we get him fatted up," said Norah, "he will be main good-looking."
Daffodil had sauntered slowly homeward. She looked for some one to call after her, but there was no sound. Oh, her mother did not care for her now, and Norry had not so much as coaxed her in and offered her a piece of cake. She entered the house rather sadly. Gran'mere was concocting some treat for supper. She just turned and said, "Were they glad to see your father?"
"I don't know. I didn't go in." Then she crept up alongside of grandfather, and leaned her face down on his breast and cried softly.
"Dear, what has hurt my little girl?" pushing aside the mop of hair.
"Mother won't want me any more. Nor grandad, nor Norry, nor—nor any one;" and Daffodil seemed very lonesome in a great cold world, colder than any winter day.
"Yes, I want you. Oh, they'll all want you after a day or two. And it's a great thing for your father to come home safe."
"I don't believe I am going to like him. He isn't like what I thought."
Grandfather smiled. "Wait and see what he is like to-morrow. It's almost night now, and things look different, cloudy-like. There, dear, don't cry when we are all full of joy."
CHAPTER III
WELCOME
Neighbors kept dropping in, and the table was crowded at supper time. Hospitality was ungrudging in those days. Grandfather had the little girl close under his wing, but she had a curiously strange feeling, as if she was outside of it all. Then her mother said: