“That’s good.”
He placed a small round gypsy table near the bed and put the plate and jug of milk upon it.
“You knew of course when I spoke, that—I merely wanted you to get a long night’s rest. You were tired, you know.”
“Oh, I know that, father.”
“Then, good-night, my dear; perhaps it was foolish to wake you up, but you will soon drop off asleep again.”
“In a minute, and this does look tempting. I just wanted a glass of milk. It’s so good of you, father.”
She drew his head down and kissed him.
“I hope you’ll sleep well,” she added.
“I’ll be sure to.”
At the door he stopped; then after a moment, whispered cautiously: