"And I you, my own darling," her father replied, caressing her again and again.
"I'd rather have you to love me, Papa, than have all the money in the world without you, or with a father that didn't care much about me," she continued.
"Dear child," he said in tender tones, "I value you, and each one of my children, more than words can express. Now I must bid you good-night, for you need all the sleep you can get between this and sunrise."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "I do hope to-morrow will be clear, so we can go to see the 'Wanita;' or at least that it won't rain. Perhaps it would be all the pleasanter for a few clouds to keep the sun from being so hot on us."
"No doubt," he replied; "but we must take the weather our heavenly Father sends, and be content and thankful."
"Yes, sir, I'll try to do so; but I do hope it will be such that we can go."
"I hope it will, daughter; but if you should have to give up the trip for the time, I hope and expect to see you do so pleasantly,—which you well may, considering that we are very likely to have other opportunities."
"Well, if anything should happen to keep me at home, and I'm cross or sulky about it, I just hope you'll punish me well for my naughtiness," she said so earnestly that he could scarcely refrain from smiling.
"I'm sure that in that case I should punish myself quite as much as you," he said, giving her another hug. "My dear child, if you care at all for Papa's happiness,—as I am sure you do,—try to be so good that he will never have the pain of inflicting any kind of punishment upon you."
Then he bade her good-night, and left her to her rest.