"A fine set of friends you do have, to be sure, Diamond!"

"Surely she's a friend anyhow, father. If it hadn't been for her,
you would never have got Mrs. Coleman and Miss Coleman to carry home."

His father was silent, for he saw that Diamond was right, and was
ashamed to find himself more ungrateful than he had thought.

"Then there's the new gentleman," Diamond went on.

"If he do as he say," interposed his father.

"And why shouldn't he? I daresay sixpence ain't too much for him
to spare. But I don't quite understand, father: is nobody your
friend but the one that does something for you?"

"No, I won't say that, my boy. You would have to leave out baby then."

"Oh no, I shouldn't. Baby can laugh in your face, and crow in your ears,
and make you feel so happy. Call you that nothing, father?"

The father's heart was fairly touched now. He made no answer
to this last appeal, and Diamond ended off with saying:

"And there's the best of mine to come yet--and that's you, daddy--
except it be mother, you know. You're my friend, daddy, ain't you?
And I'm your friend, ain't I?"

"And God for us all," said his father, and then they were both