“But before she saved your life, you didn’t care for her so very, very much, did you?”
“Not so awfully as all that,” said Ralph, considering his words.
“But afterwards?” continued Patience.
“Couldn’t help it arterards,” said Ralph. “Her did it twice, you know.”
Patience did not know, but she was determined to treasure up the information given unwittingly by Ralph.
“Well,” she said after a minute’s pause, “I understand of course quite well that you are awfully obliged to her and all that, and that perhaps you do love her. But you don’t love her better than your father, do you?”
“Better nor father?” said Ralph. “In course not?”
“But did he ever save your life?”
“No,” said Ralph; “but then he is father.”
“I see quite well, my wise little man,” said Patience, tucking him up and kissing him. “Now Robina never saved your life: but you—you love her notwithstanding that?”