"Oh no, papa; she is the dearest little thing; but I am so glad to find you here alone, for I want to have a very particular talk with you."
"What is it now, I wonder?" said her father, as he lifted her on to his knee, and began to play with her hair.
"Papa, I have just been seeing Coral's mamma," said Beryl.
"Ah, have you?" said her father. "And how does she seem now, poor woman?"
"She looks very ill, so white and thin," said Beryl; "but I like her so much, and she spoke to me very kindly. Do you think she is so very ill? She spoke as if she were going to die. Do you think that can be true, papa?"
"I am afraid so," he answered. "The doctor thinks she had disease of the lungs before, and her being so long in the water, and the fright and all her trouble, have made it develop rapidly."
"But will it really come to that? Oh, I hope not," said Beryl, large tears gathering in her eyes; "but if it should, papa, how sad it would be for little Coral! Her mamma cried when she spoke of it, and so did Coral. It was so sad."
"Yes, it is very sad, my darling, very sad," said Mr. Hollys, in a low voice.
"Papa, if it should be, what would become of poor little Coral, without father or mother to take care of her?" asked Beryl, looking straight into her father's eyes.
"I scarcely know, my dear," he answered. "I suppose we should have to send her to some orphan asylum."