Up into the swollen and disfigured face of the fallen father, the large, earnest blue eyes of the child are raised. She does not see the marred lineaments; but only the beloved countenance of her parent.
"Dear father!"
"What, love?"
"I wish you'd promise me something."
"What, dear?"
"Will you promise?"
"I can't say until I hear your request. If I can promise, I will."
"Oh, you can promise—you can, father!"
How the large blue eyes dance and sparkle!
"What is it, love?"