“Oh, Daddy, Dad-dee,” she screamed.
He held her off at arm’s length and looked at her. Her eyes began to fill up with happy tears, and once more she threw herself into his arms.
“Well, kiddy, cry all you want to,” he said, comfortingly, patting her on the back. “I guess that’s the medicine you needed. You’ll be all right now.”
Mr. Temple’s words bore reference to the fact that for months Della’s health had been failing, and she had shown so little interest in her studies that it had been considered wiser to take her out of the boarding school which she attended, and bring her home.
“Oh, yes, Dad-dee,” she sobbed, her face buried in his coat. “I’ll be all right now.”
Then she lifted her tear-stained cheeks and asked anxiously:
“It says they are all safe—all? Doesn’t it?”
Mr. Temple nodded, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“Yes, kiddy,” he said. “Frank’s safe, too.”
“Oh, Dad-dee, I didn’t mean that,” said Della, blushing furiously.