dark eyes, which glistened with intense excitement beneath her jet-black
hair, indicated that her tears were those of indignation rather than
grief. How long she had been standing there he could not tell; but, as
soon as she saw that her father had finished his work, little Marian--for
she it was--darted forward, and throwing her arms around his neck, with a
sob, let her small dusky head fall upon the polished breast-piece of his
leathern apron.

"What's amiss with daddy's poppet?" asked the father tenderly, as he
clasped the quivering little form more closely to his breast.

The only answer was a convulsive movement of the little body within his
arms.

"Come, darling, tell daddy." Strange strugglings continued within the
strong, encircling arms. This little girl of four had as strong a will as
her father; and she was conquering her turbulent emotions, that she might
be able to answer his questions. In a moment she broke away from his
clasp, and, dashing the tears from her eyes with her little brown hands,
stood before him with glowing face and quivering lip.

"Me 'ant to see mammy!" she cried--the child was unusually slow of speech
for her age. "Dey 'on't 'et Ma-an do upstairs."

"Cobbler" Horn took the child upon his knee, and gently stroked the small
dusky head.

"Mammy is very ill, Marian," he said gently.

"Me 'ant to see mammy," was the emphatic response.

"By and bye, darling," replied the father huskily.

"What 'oo going to c'y for, daddy?" demanded the child, looking up hastily
into her father's face. "Poor daddy!" she continued, stroking his cheek
with her small brown hand, "Isn't 'oo very well?"

"I'm not going to cry, darling," said the father, bowing his head over his
child, and taking into his strong hand the little fingers which still
rested against his face. "You don't understand, my poor child!"

There followed a brief pause.

"P'ease, daddy," pleaded Marian presently, "Ma-an _must_ see mammy. Dere's
such pitty fings in se shops, and me 'ants to do with mammy to see dem--in
morning."

The shops were already displaying their Christmas decorations.

Marian's father gave a great gasp.

"Marian shall see mammy now," he said solemnly, as he rose from his stool
still holding the child to his breast.

"I'se so glad!" and she gave a little jump in his arms. "Good daddy!"

"But father's little poppet must be quiet, and not talk, or cry."

"No," said Marian with childhood's readiness to mak