"Oh, no, papa"
"Hum!"
"If he had been old I should not be here; for he has had to fight for me against cruel men with knives; and work like a horse. He built me a hut, and made me this cave, and almost killed himself in my service. Poor Mr. Hazel!"
"How old is he?"
"Dearest papa, I never asked him that; but I think he is four or five years older than me, and a hundred years better than I shall ever be, I am afraid. What is the matter, darling?"
"Nothing, child, nothing."
"Don't tell me. Can't I read your dear face?"
"Come, let me read yours. Look me in the face, now; full."
He took her by the shoulders, firmly, but not the least roughly, and looked straight into her hazel eyes. She blushed at this ordeal—blushed scarlet; but her eyes, pure as Heaven, faced his fairly, though with a puzzled look.
He concluded this paternal inspection by kissing her on the brow. "I was an old fool," he muttered.