Hot here--this is only an hotel--we are
going to have a house. How do you do? This is my dolly."
I saluted dolly, and thereby inspired its parent with confidence: she
put her hand in mine, and gave me her smooth little cheek to kiss. "You
are not like papa," she then observed.
I smiled conciliatingly, being uncertain whether it were prudent to
follow this lead; but Mrs. Courtney asked, "In what way different,
dear?"
"Papa has a beard," replied Susie.
The incident rather struck me; it seemed to indicate that Mrs. Courtney
was under no apprehension that the child would say anything
embarrassing about the father. Having learned so much, I ventured
farther.
"Do you love papa or mamma best?" I inquired.
"I am with mamma most," she answered, after meditation, "but when papa
comes, I like him."
This was non-committal. She continued, "Papa is coming here day after
to-morrow. To-morrow, mamma and I are going to find a house."
"Your husband leaves all that to you?" I said, turning to Mrs.
Courtney.
"Mr. Courtney never knows or cares what sort of a place he lives in.
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