"No, sir. What would you like me to call you?"

He was thoughtful. "How about 'Dad'?" And then he smiled. "On second thought, let's make it 'Father' for the time being. Somehow I think you'd be more comfortable with that."

"Father?" Her heart soared. What a wondrous word! Her own father was dead, and she desperately wanted to ask this golden prince if that meant she would now be his little girl. But it was dreadfully impolite to ask personal questions, so she held her tongue.

"Now that we have that settled, why don't you tell me why you can't fall asleep?"

She stared ahead miserably. "I'm rather a-afraid that I might-not on purpose, of course-purely by accident… I might commit an unfortunate mishap on the airplane seat."

"Mishap?"

She nodded her head miserably. How could she explain something so terrible to this shining man?

He didn't say anything for a moment. She was afraid to look at him, afraid of the revulsion she would see on his face. She stared at the woven back of the airplane seat ahead of her.

"I see," he finally replied. "It's an interesting problem. How do you think we could solve it?"

She didn't move her eyes from the back of the seat ahead of her. He seemed to expect her to say something, so she made a tentative offering. "You could pinch my arm, perhaps, if I began to fall asleep."

"Uhm. Yes, I suppose I could do that. Except I might fall asleep, too, and then I wouldn't notice. I think I have a better idea."

She cautiously turned her head to look at him. His fingertips were pressed together and his forehead knitted in concentration.

"What if…" he said. "What if we both just shut our eyes and took a small nap. Then, if you woke up and found out you'd had an unfortunate, uh, mishap, you could nudge me in the arm. I'd ask the stewardess for a glass of water, and when she gave it to me, I'd accidentally spill it over your skirt and onto the seat."