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She had thought the thing out, perhaps in the
long night - when he slept placidly. Thought and suffered, he
surmised. And again he remembered his worldly plans for her, and
felt justly punished.
"I suppose it is hard for a father to understand how any one can
know his little girl and not love her. Or be the better for it."
She kissed him and slid off the arm of his chair.
"Don't you worry," she said cheerfully. "I had to make an ideal
for myself about somebody. Every girl does. Sometimes it's the
plumber. It doesn't really matter who it is, so you can pin your
dreams to him. The only thing that hurts is that Graham wasn't
worth while."
She went back to her little cards, but some ten minutes later the
rector, lost in thought, heard the scratching of her pen cease.
"Did you ever think, daddy," she said, "of the influence women have
over men? Look at the Spencers. Mrs. Spencer spoiling Graham, and
making her husband desperately unhappy. And - "
"Unhappy? What makes you think that?"
"He looks unhappy.


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