The captain noticed her abstraction, but, guessing at the cause, said nothing about it till they were alone together in her bedroom; then, drawing her to his knee, "My little girl has been unusually silent this evening," he said. "Is anything wrong with her?"
She drew a long sigh. "I have been trying to decide a question of duty, papa," she said, "and, please—I'd like you to tell me what to do."
"In regard to what, daughter?"
"Giving a part of my money—the money you put into my purse this morning—to—to the Forestis."
"I think it would be right and kind for you to do so. Do not you?"
"Yes, sir; and I will do it," she said with sudden determination. "It will be returning good for evil, as the Bible bids us; won't it, papa?"
"Yes; and I think will help you to forgive the man for his ill treatment of my dear little daughter," drawing her closer and kissing her fondly.
"Yes, sir; even the resolve has made me feel more kindly toward him. How much ought I to give, papa? I hardly think I'll have very much left after I've paid for the presents I've sent for, for the servants here."
"No, not a very great deal, I presume; but you are not likely to need much before there will be more pocket-money coming to you."
"Oh, no, sir, I'll not, of course, because my dear, dear father provides everything I need to eat or wear, and pays my travelling expenses too, so that I'm not really obliged to spend anything on myself," she said, putting an arm about his neck and laying her cheek lovingly to his. "Papa, do you think a dollar will be enough for me to give the Forestis?"