Page:The Father Confessor, Stories of Danger and Death.djvu/160

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150
THE BROKEN HEART

She was glad for his sake, but she felt she did not want more than she had. She was quite happy, quite content, as long as he was with her.

"You love me, too?" she said, in a childlike way.

"I love you very much."

"And you could not do without me?" she questioned playfully.

"I could not indeed, dear little comrade. Now go to bed and sleep well."

"And you will sleep well, dear father, now your business worry is over?"

"Yes, to-night I shall sleep well—for I am tired, so tired."

He kissed her upon the face and hair, and smiled upon her as she blew a kiss to him from the door. She had never seen him so gay. She thought what a lover he must have been when he was young, and how handsome. She imagined a bride—her mother—beautiful enough to be his mate; but imagination failed. She marshalled several dream-mothers before her, but none were lovely enough for him.

"Oh, mother," she said, "if I could only remember your face!"