Without any ceremony Dawn flung open the door of his father's studio. His father was standing before his big canvas, painting earnestly. He did not look round or speak till Dawn had seized hold of his saucer of jam. Then he turned and smiled at Christina. "When are you going to let me put you into a picture?" he asked. Christina's cheeks became crimson, but she did not speak. "She says she couldn't have you stare at her, dad. Tina is very shy, like my black rabbit Loo was. Loo would shake all over when I took hold of her, and she never left off shaking till she died. Put your finger in, Tina, and lick it. I've got no spoon. It's just scrumptious!" "You'll find a spoon in my cupboard," said Dawn's father. And Christina the next minute was sitting down on a rug with her small friend, sharing his delicious compound. "So your father is coming back," Dawn's father, Mr. O'Flagherty, said after a pause. "And Tina doesn't know what he's like, but we hope he'll be something like you," said Dawn eagerly. His father shook his head and went on painting. "I expect he'll be nice," said Christina loyally. "Fathers are always nice, aren't they, Jack-in-the-box? It's their children who are the tyrants and taskmasters; the poor fathers have a sad time of it, but they never complain; not even when a year's work is spoilt in one moment by a meddlesome imp applying the wrong varnish!" Dawn put his saucer of jam down and flung himself upon his father with tearful eyes. "I've told you thousands of times how sorry I was. I did mean to help you, dad; you know I did! I begged you to give me a thrashing; but I've helped you with some of your pictures, haven't I? Oh, I wish you wouldn't make me keep remembering that varnish! I wish you had had a girl like Tina instead of a boy like me!" His father put his brush in his mouth, and for a minute rested his hand on the curly head that was burrowing itself into his coat pocket. "You're my plague and joy, sonny, and as necessary to me as my paint is! Now be off with you. I hear Miss Bertha calling." "I hope my father will speak to me like that," said Christina, as they left the room. "Dad and I are very old friends," Dawn responded quaintly. "We've learnt to understand each other." All the way home Christina turned over these words in her mind. "If my father isn't old friends with me, we can be new ones perhaps. I hope, oh, I do hope he will like me!" When Miss Bertha left her at the door of her home, she said to her softly: "I am going to give you a nice little verse, Childie, to think of when you get frightened of people and of things. It is this: "'What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee.'" Christina repeated it over to herself as she climbed the nursery stairs. She met Nurse with a glad light in her eyes. "I've had the most lovely day, Nurse, and I don't think I shall mind very much my father and mother coming home."