gasped! 'I am _so_ glad I thought of him. Papa will get better like the
potato boy's father. I'll say it in my prayers. Dear mamma, I won't
forget. And I _will_ try to be good and not tear my frocks nor speak
without thinking.'

The tears were coming now, but Biddy knew mamma did not like her to
begin to cry, and truly it was no wonder, for once she began it was by
no means easy to say when she would leave off! She choked them down as
well as she could. And the little face, hot and flushed now, was timidly
raised to her mother's for a kiss of forgiveness.

It was not refused, but a sigh accompanied it, which went to the child's
heart. But there was no time for more, as at that moment the hall door
was heard to open and Mr. Vane's and Rough's voices sounded outside.

Quite subdued, desperately penitent, Bridget went back to her place. Her
head was full as well as her heart. She had so many things to think over
that she felt as if she could not eat. First and foremost was the
strange newly awakened anxiety about her father. She looked at him as he
came in as she had never looked at him before, almost expecting to see
some great and appalling change in his appearance. But no--he seemed
much as usual--his face was indeed reddened a little by his brisk walk
in the chill air, and his voice was as cheery as ever. Biddy gave a
loud, most audible sigh of relief. Mr. Vane started and interrupted
himself in the middle of a lively account of the adventures he and
Randolph had met with in their walk.

'My dear Biddy,' he said. 'What _can_ you have to sigh about in that
appalling way?'