"I'm glad," she responded, brightly. "I'm very hungry."
"We have been talking downstairs of your mother," he went on, as he set down the tray. "Miriam has been telling me how beautiful she was, what winning ways she had, and how dearly she loved us. She says you do not look at all like her, Barbara, and we both have been thinking that you did."
Disappointed
Barbara was startled. Only a few days ago, Aunt Miriam had assured her that she was the living image of her mother. She was perplexed and disappointed. Then she reflected that when she had asked the question she had been very ill and Aunt Miriam was trying to answer in a way that pleased her. She generously forgave the deceit for the sake of the kindly motive behind it.
"Dear Aunt Miriam," said Barbara, softly. "How good she has been to us, Daddy."
"Yes," he replied; "I do not know what we should have done without her. I want to do something for her, dear. Shall we buy her a diamond ring, or some pearls?"
"We'll see, Daddy. When I can walk, and you can see, we shall do many things together that we cannot do now."
The old man bent down very near her. "Flower of the Dusk," he whispered, "when may I go?"
"Go where, Daddy?"