Virginia leaned back, but only in this did she obey, for her eyes were still centered on the man in silent attention. She had little awe of him within her buoyant young soul, but much curiosity lay under the level, penetrating glance she bent upon her father. Here was a man who, according to all the human laws of which Virginia had ever heard, belonged to her, and to her alone. There were no other children and no mother. Yet so little did she know of him that she wouldn't have recognized him had she met him in the road. Singleton's uneasy glance, seeking the yellow, licking flames in the grate, crossed hers. "I told you not to stare at me so, child!" he repeated. This time the violet eyes wavered just for an instant, then fastened their gaze once more upon the speaker. "I don't remember how you look," she stammered, "and I'd like to know. I can't tell if I don't look, can I?" Her grave words, and possibly the steady, piercing gaze, brought a twitch to the father's lips. Surely his child had spoken the truth. He himself had almost forgotten he had a girl; that she was the only living creature who had a call upon the slender thread of his life. Had he lived differently, the girl in front of him would have been watching him for some other reason than curiosity. "That's why I'm looking at you, sir," she explained. "If any one on the hills'd say, 'How's your father looking, Jinnie?' if I hadn't looked at you sharp, sir, how'd I know?" She sighed as her eyes roved the length of the man once more. The ashes in the grate were no grayer than his face. "You're awful thin and white," she observed. "I'm sick," replied Singleton in excuse. "Oh, I'm sorry!" answered Virginia. "You're quite grown up now," remarked the man presently, with a meditative air. "Oh, yes, sir!" she agreed. "I'm a woman now. I'm fifteen years old." "I see! Well, well, you _are_ quite grown up! I heard you playing just now. Where did you ever learn such music?" Jinnie placed her hand on her heart. "I got it out of here, sir," she replied simply. Involuntarily Singleton straightened his rounded shoulders, and a smile touched the corners of his mouth. Even his own desperate condition for the moment was erased from his mind in the pride he felt in his daughter. Then over him swept a great regret. He had missed more than he had gained in his travels abroad, in not living with and for the little creature before him. Her eyes were filled with contemplation; then the lovely face, in its exquisite purity, saddened for a moment. "Matty isn't going to take me across her knee never any more," she vouchsafed, a smile breaking like a ray of sunshine.