A clunk on the table made her jerk around, looking in shock at Papa, her own earthenware mug steaming away on the table.

Papa reached out to tousle her hair.

'We love you, little one. Try to learn from this lesson. We don't like having to be angry at you, Mila.'

The gentle voice and his sympathetic smile and gaze had the tears running down Mila's cheeks. He held out his arms, and she flung herself into them.

'Papa, I didn't mean,' Mila couldn't finish her ...