"I think it was a political meeting of some sort," said Connie, laughing
merrily.
"Well, they have this advantage over us," I answered, "that they get
through their business whatever it may be, with considerably greater
expedition than we get through ours."
A short silence followed, during which Connie lay contemplating everything.
"What do you think we girls are like, then, papa?" she asked at length.
"Don't say you don't know, now."
"I ought to know something more about you than I do about schoolboys. And
I think I do know a little about girls--not much though. They puzzle me a
good deal sometimes. I know what a great-hearted woman is, Connie."
"You can't help doing that, papa," interrupted Connie, adding with her old
roguishness, "You mustn't pass yourself off for very knowing for that. By
the time Wynnie is quite grown up, your skill will be tried."
"I hope I shall understand her then, and you too, Connie."
A shadow, just like the shadow of one of those white clouds above us,
passed over her face, and she said, trying to smile:
"I shall never grow up, papa. If I live, I shall only be a girl at best--a
creature you can't understand.
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