"But that's not all, Father. I have told no one but mother and you; but I'm all one running sore down to my feet, and the doctor said something about an operation the other day. Sure, you won't allow that, Daddy Dan, will you?"
She was rolling one of the buttons in my sleeve round and round in her thin fingers, and looking wistfully at me.
"No, my child, no operation! You have gone through too much for that. But now cheer up, Alice, it will all come right. Some of these days you will see how our dear Lord and His Holy Mother love you. Why, don't you know, you little goose, that these are signs of your predestination? Don't you remember all that you have learned about the saints, and how they prayed to be afflicted?"
"And don't you remember all about those holy women that were marked with the wounds of our Divine Lord?"
"I do, Daddy Dan."
"Very well! Now you're one of them. The Lord has made you His own. Now, good by. I'll come to see you every day in future. But pray! pray! pray! won't you?"
"I will, Daddy Dan! Will you come to-morrow?"
This was all very well; but I was as cross as a bear with a sore head, notwithstanding.