"Your papa, child."
"But I'll tell him it was all my fault. And you know it was, Lootie."
"He won't mind that. I'm sure he won't."
"Then I'll cry, and go down on my knees to him, and beg him not to
take
away my own dear Lootie."
The nurse was comforted at hearing this, and said no more. They went
on,
walking pretty fast, but taking care not to run a step.
"I want to talk to you," said Irene to the little miner; "but it's so
awkward! I don't know your name."
"My name's Curdie, little princess."
"What a funny name! Curdie! What more?"
"Curdie Peterson. What's your name, please?"
Madhuri Noah
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