"Did he?" asked her father, smiling as he came back with the hat. "Well, honey, there are much worse things in this world than those little fellows and if you don't complain any more than that you're going to be a very happy lady when you grow up."
"Like Mamma?" asked the little tot, with a thoughtful face.
"Just like Mamma," the man repeated. "The loveliest—the bravest—and the best." He wavered a little on his feet and the hat threatened to slip through his fingers, but his daughter's great, dark eyes were steady on his and, curiously enough, he seemed to draw strength to pull himself together.
"And now, let's see. We'll have to get the grime off first. Just dip the little wounded soldier in."
"What! My foot in your hat!" protested Virgie with a little scream. "Oh, you poor daddy!"
"Why, that's all right, honey," he laughed, pleased at her daintiness. "That hat's an old veteran. He don't mind anything. So—souse her in.
"There—easy now—easy" as she threatened to capsize this curious basin. "Big toe first.
"Yes, I know it's cold," he laughed as the water stung the broken skin and made her twitch involuntarily, "but bathing will do it good. I just know it feels better already—doesn't it?"
"Yes, sir," answered Virgie meekly, "only—it jumps up and down harder than ever. But of course I know it must be getting better."
"Good! What did I tell you? Now let Daddy look."