"And what I say I don't--that is, sometimes. Do you really, really mean it though, dad?"
"Yes, my dear. The gentleman who was with me to-night--a good friend--has opened out such a prospect to me."
"O, I am so glad; for this isn't very nice for you!" she said, glancing round the room.
"Nor for you, my dear," he replied, looking wistfully at her. "Don't you wish for something better?"
"I wish for a great many things--holidays, new dresses, and new hats--and I should like a good deal of money. If fifty pounds were to tumble down the chimney now, shouldn't we be surprised? Ah, but what's the use of wishing, daddy!"
"You may have some of these things, Liz, if you like." His serious manner made her more serious and attentive. "Such a house as you saw just now you may have, perhaps. It depends upon you whether I accept the offer that has been made to me to-night."
"Upon me!" she exclaimed.
"Do you remember what I was when you first came here?"
"Why, the same as you are now," she replied, with a laughing evasion of what he was referring to.
"No, my dear," he said humbly, taking her hand in his; "I was a lonely miserable man. There was no light in my life. I used to come home night after night, and drink."