don't seem to care much about your arithmetical prowess," father
said, smiling. "I shall not ask you to help me with my accounts, but it
will be a pleasure to hear you sing, especially if you will indulge me
with a ballad now and then which I can really enjoy. You are older than
I thought; but keep as young as you can, child. I don't want to lose my
little playfellow yet awhile. I've missed her very badly these last
years."

I liked to hear that. It was sad for him, of course, but I simply love
people to love me and feel bad when I'm gone. I was far and away the
most popular girl at school, but it wasn't all chance as they seemed to
think. I'm sure I worked hard enough for the position. If a girl
didn't like me I was so fearfully nice to her that she was simply forced
to come round. I said something like that to Lorna once, and she was
quite shocked, and called it self-seeking and greed for admiration, and
all sorts of horrid names. I don't see it at all; I call it a most
amiable weakness. It makes you pleasant and kind even if you feel
horrid, and that must be nice. I felt all bubbling over with good
resolutions when father said that, and begged him to let me be not only
his playmate but his helper also, and to tell me at once what I could
do.

He smiled again in that sad sort of way grown-up people have, which
seems to say that they know such a lot more than you, and are sorry for
your ignorance.

"Nothing definite, darling," he said; "an infinite variety of things
indefinite! Love me, and remember me sometimes among the new
distractions--that's about the best you can do;" and I laughed, and
pinched him again.

"You silly old dear! As if I could ever forget!" and just at that
moment we drove up to the porch.

If it had been another girl's mother, she would have been waiting at the
door to receive me. I've been home with friends, so I know; but my
mother is different. I don't think I should like it if she did come!
It doesn't fit into my idea of her, some way. Mother is like a queen--
everyone waits upon her, and goes up to her presence like a throne-room.
I peeped into the mirror in the hall as I passed, and tucked back some
ends of hair, and straightened my tie, and then the door opened, and
there she stood--the darling!--holding out her arms to welcome me, with
her eyes all soft and tender, as they used to be when she came to say
"good night." Mother is not demonstrative as a rule, so you sim