"Haven't you made any kisses?"
"No, dearie."
"But," protested the child, "daddy'll be so disappointed!"
"Will he, honey? That wouldn't do, would it? … Very well, then, mother'll make some kisses."
With Muriel looking on, the mother made several large, and heavy crosses at the foot of that which she had written. There were other marks on that letter—marks that were not kisses—marks that had been made by moisture, and that had smeared the ink as they had been quickly wiped away.
These the child did not notice; she was looking toward the house.
"Here comes Aunt Elinor, mother, dear," she said.
[Illustration]