“Dear child, do you think your father could have the heart to keep on punishing you for wrong-doing so sincerely repented of?” he asked, in half reproachful tones and caressing her with great tenderness.
“I—I thought I—I deserved it, papa.”
“I do not think so,” he said. “But did you want a party?”
“Yes, papa, and I thought you meant to give me one if I’d been good.”
“You shall have one some time before the summer is over,” he promised, “and I hope tomorrow will be a very happy day to you in spite of your disappointment.”
Then he kissed her good night and left her.
She was much comforted and her troubles were soon forgotten in sleep.
When she woke the sun was shining, and she started up with an exclamation of surprise.
Beside her bed stood a small table, and on it were a number of things she had never seen before:
A pretty work-basket, a beautiful little clock, a lovely pair of vases, several handsomely bound books, and a box of kid gloves.