without question; and his relief made him very tender. Gradually, the sobs ceased. She leaned against his arm.
"I'm tired, father," she whispered.
"Poor little girl. We'll sit down."
There was a seat at the end of the terrace. McEachern picked Molly up as if she had been a baby, and carried her to it. She gave a little cry.
"I didn't mean I was too tired to walk," she said, laughing tremulously. "How strong you are, father! If I was naughty, you could take me up and shake me till I was good, couldn't you?"
"Of course. And send you to bed, too. So, you be careful, young woman."
He lowered her to the seat. Molly drew the cloak closer round her, and shivered.
"Cold, dear?"
"No."
"You shivered."
"It was nothing. Yes, it was," she went on quickly; "it was. Father, will you promise me something?"
"Of course. What?"
"Don't ever be angry with me like that again, will you? I couldn't bear it. Really, I couldn't. I know it's stupid of me, but it hurt. You don't know how it hurt."
"But, my dear—"
"Oh, I know it's stupid. But—"
