"That's what daddys are for, Midget mine. You're one of my four favorite children, and don't you suppose I'd help you to the earth, if you wanted it?"
"I 'spect you would. And, Father, you said I could cry till about
Tuesday, didn't you?"
"Why, yes; but make it a little shorter spell each day, and,—if perfectly convenient, arrange to do it when I'm at home."
"Oh, Father, that's the time I won't cry! When you're here to talk to me."
"You don't say so! Then I'll retire from business, close up my office, and stay at home all day hereafter. Anything I can do to help a lady in distress, must be done!"
They were both laughing now, and Midge had quite stopped crying, though her heart was heavy underneath her smiles.
But the whole current of her thoughts had been changed by her talk with her father, and as she made herself tidy, and went down to dinner, she felt a responsibility on her to act as became the brave daughter of such a dear father.
And, strange to say, the feeling was not entirely unpleasant.