"Poor Josie!" he said.
She came out of her corner and stood by his side. "Papa, have you got the block insured?" she asked.
Her father colored suddenly as he put his arm about the child and drew her closer to him. "Here girls," he said, "is one who thinks of the means as well as the end. She never will ruin any one by her extravagance."
"But have you, papa?" she persisted.
"This house is all right, dear; and I'm going to insure the store to-morrow."
He spoke carelessly, but there was a slight stir of uneasiness perceptible beneath.
His wife looked at him with surprise. "Why, father, how happened you to let it run out?"
"I was so busy to-day I forgot all about it," he said almost pettishly. "The policy expired only yesterday. I'll see to it the first thing in the morning. Go and sing something, girls."
All but Josie gathered about the piano, and sang one of William Blake's songs:
"Can I see another's woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another's grief,
And not seek for kind relief?