“My idea,” exclaimed Miss Wren, “is now about the size of an orange. But before it gets any bigger, welcome back, dear godmother!”

The little creature folded her arms about the old man’s neck with great earnestness, and kissed him. “I humbly beg your forgiveness, godmother. I am truly sorry. I ought to have had more faith in you. But what could I suppose when you said nothing for yourself, you know? I don’t mean to offer that as a justification, but what could I suppose, when you were a silent party to all he said? It did look bad; now didn’t it?”