"Papa, this is to be a secret."
"Oh! oh! and you expect me to keep it?"
"Of course, at least a part of it," and Olive looked so serious, as she came and stood by his chair, that he became attentive in an instant, saying heartily:—"Well, go on dear, I'm listening, and promise to keep the secret."
Olive hesitated an instant, but she always hated to show any feeling, especially of embarrassment, so pitched into her subject abruptly, with her eyes down. "You know, papa, that we know that you have been troubled with the hard times, and wanted to help you."
"Yes, Olive, and I can never forget the way that my girls and their dear mother anticipated, and have done to help me."
"No," Olive answered, almost impatiently. "We have done nothing; it most all falls on mama; she helps us with the work, and as for 'Prince,' of course, we loved him, but we girls are able to walk, it's only mama, who is denied; so all the help it is, she gives, not we."
"Then we should love her all the more, dear," said
Mr. Dering; and the tenderness and love that shone in his face would have gladdened the heart of the wife of thirty years, had she seen it.
"I don't think we can ever love her enough," answered Olive heartily; then hesitated again, while her hand went slowly into her pocket, and came slowly out again.
"Hold your hand, papa."