But her father was too quick for her.

He closed it with a laugh, and stood with his back to it.

The child did not cry, but, with flaming cheeks, she began to beat her father's knees with her small fists.
"Go and kiss granny, darling," said Roger, stroking her dark head.
Beatty turned again, put both her hands behind her, and stood immovable.
"Not kiss granny," she said firmly.

"Don't love granny." "Oh, Beatty"-- Mrs.French knelt down beside her--"come and be a good little girl, and I'll show you picture-books." "I not Beatty--I Jemima Ann," said the small thin voice.

"Not be a dood dirl--do upstairs." She looked at her father again, and then, evidently perceiving that he was not to be moved by force, she changed her tactics.