"Then you will be very, very kind to her?"
"Does your father love this woman?"
"Love her? Oh, yes! but this thing has come a little between them. She has grown shy of going out, while he must be in the world; and all her life seems to vanish when he is away. Sometimes it makes my heart ache to think how much she loves him."
"But he loves you?"
"Almost as much as mamma Rachael does. He was never cross to me but once."
"And then?"
Clara turned pale, and took up her needle.
"I would rather not talk about that just now. You might be more angry than my father was."
"It would be very difficult for me to get angry with you, little one."
"But you would, if I were to be very obstinate, and insist on having my own way about—about something—that—that—"