“It's just mamma's own self, that's what it is,” interrupted Marie-Celeste, since her father seemed to be at a loss for a word, and she put her two arms around her mother's neck, as much as to say, “Isn't a mother like mine the darlingest thing?” and then a little fellow, who didn't have any mother, quite unconsciously to himself, drew a great deep sigh, and Mrs. Harris gave her little daughter a furtive push from her. Marie-Celeste looked puzzled a moment, and then she understood.