“It is difficult to make you out exactly,” said the child. “You said something this morning that made me think you had been a soldier; yet you didn’t say so, absolutely. You may be an honest man,—but I don’t know. You say you are not so poor as you seem. What is your profession?”
“Profession? I don’t profess anything—I—make no professions,” he said, smiling.
“You are evading my question,” she said, gravely. “I mean, what is your trade,—your calling?”
“I am no tradesman,—and as for my calling—”
He hesitated; and the child, looking steadily into his face, said: “You avoid answering me directly about yourself, yet you wonder that I don’t tell you at once all about my father. Let us each keep our own secrets, and be good friends. Come, tell me a little about your daughter. How tall is she? Is she pretty? And is she very fond of you?”
“You will see her soon, I hope, and judge for yourself,” answered the man. “But in my eyes she is very pretty, and she is certainly very fond of her father.”
“Yes,” answered Paulina, gravely. “But,” continued she, “I dare say your daughter seems pretty to you because she has a kind and loving face. I can believe that she is really pretty, as well as pretty from affectionate looks and from being fond of her father.”
“And pray what may be your reason for believing this?” rejoined he.
“Because you have rather a nice face yourself,” she said.
“Rather a nice face!” echoed the man, still laughing. “Is that all the praise you can find for me? I assure you, I am accounted passing handsome; nay, I have been told a thousand times that I am the handsomest man in all my—in all these dominions.”