'No, Winnie, he never thought of me. You are very fond of him; very fond of your father, are you not?'
'Oh yes,' said she, 'I love him more than all the world—next to you.'
'Then he is kind to you, Winnie?' 'Ye—yes, as kind as he can be—considering—'
'Considering what, Winnie?'
'Considering that he's often—unwell, you know.'
'Winnie.' I said, as I gazed in the innocent eyes, 'whom are you considered to be the most like, your father or your mother?'
'I never knew my mother, but I am said to be partly like her. Why do you ask?'
'Only an idle question. You love me, Winnie?'
'What a question!'
'And you will do what I ask you to do, if I ask you very earnestly,
Winnie?'