"I'll ask him to forgive me," Frances whispered.
"You know father and I want our little girl to grow into a sweet, gracious woman—"
"Just like you," Frances interrupted, with her arms around her mother's neck.
"No, not just like me," answered Mrs. Morrison, smiling; "you must be your own self, Wink. I have tried not to spoil you, but of course I have made mistakes, and now you are getting old enough to share the responsibility with me."
"Do you think you ought to punish me, mother?"
"Dear, I think the punishment will be the trying to set things right again."
Nothing more was said on the subject that evening, but the next day Frances came to her mother with a bright face; "I have found out what it means," she said.
"What what means?" Mrs. Morrison asked.
"The story of the bridge. You know Gladys is mad with me and won't come here any more— Emma says she said she would never speak to me again—and that is a broken bridge and I have to mend it; but I don't know how," she added.
"Perhaps you can find a way if you try," replied her mother, thinking it best to let her solve her own problems.