30 BE TRUE.

the top of his paper, and gazing
moodily into the fire.

“Are you sick, papa?” said the
little girl, sitting down in a low chair,
and looking up affectionately into his
face.

“No!” was the short reply.

Laura was silent for a short time,
and then began, “ You look—” but
noticing a shade of impatience flit-
ting over her father’s face, she stop-
ped short, and burst into tears.

Mr. Wingate laid by his paper, and
drew her upon his knee. “ Laura,”
said he, “I wanted to talk with you
this evening about something par-
ticular; but I find that you have a
foolish prejudice against a person of
whom you know nothing.”

“Who is it, papa?” inquired the
little girl, with astonishment.