"Daughter?" she inquired.
"Yes," said Frank, "his daughter Barbara."
"How old is she?" Madge's curiosity had been aroused at once.
"About your age."
She was delighted. "And will I surely see her?"
"Yes; of course."
"Do you suppose she'll like me?"
Layson, from what he knew of Barbara Holton, scarcely thought she would. He could not make his fancy paint a picture of the haughty lowlands beauty showing much consideration for this little mountain waif; but he did not say so. He answered hesitatingly, and she noticed it.
"You don't think she'll like me!" she exclaimed.
"I didn't say so. Certainly she'll like you. Who could help it, Madge?" He smiled. It did not seem to him, as his eyes studied her, that anybody of sound sense could.