But, dear Mr.Hope, let me tell you that the moment you put your arm round me I felt just as safe in the water as on dry land; so you see I have had longer to get over it than you have; that accounts for my laughing.

No, it doesn't; I am a giddy, giggling girl, with _no depth of character_, and not worthy of all this affection.
Why does everybody love _me_?
They ought to be ashamed of themselves." Hope told her she was a little angel, and everybody was right to love her; indeed, they deserved to be hanged if they did not.
Mary fixed on the word angel.

"If I was an angel," she said, "I shouldn't be hungry, and I am, awfully.

Oh, please come home; papa is so punctual.
Mr.Hope, are you going to tell papa?
Because if you _are_, just you take me and throw me in again.

I'd rather be drowned than scolded." (This with a defiant attitude and flashing eyes.) "No, no," said Hope.