Molly was still standing by the cradle, rocking it gently.
Marian spoke to her—
"Molly, will you come here, dear?"
The child moved to her side, and stood looking up into her face, expectantly.
"You love baby very much, do you not, Molly?"
A nod in response.
"And who else do you love?"
"Father," after a moment's anxious thought.
"Anyone else, my dear?"
"Mother and the boys," the blue eyes glancing at the figure at the table busily plying the iron.