"Don't you think she'll make it if she deserves it?"
"Ah, my dear, that's not quite fair. We must do all we can."
"Then I think we'd better try to cure her temper."
"I'm afraid," he confessed—"I'm afraid I like it in her. It's abnormal, you see."
"Oh, Edward, Edward, isn't that rather like catching at straws?"
"Certainly not," he said, with a little indignation. And then, somewhat shamefacedly, he added: "The fact is, I can't dislike anything in her." He looked through the window, and his brow was wrinkled. "Do you think," he asked half timidly, "that she is suffering?"
"I hope so," Nancy said.
[CHAPTER VI]
Sunday morning was the time for putting on clean clothes.