"But you said--" she interrupted.

I did not have the chance to continue, for a hand was trying the latch of
the door, and then a sharp knock interrupted me. My father was standing
on the threshold. With a smile and a nod to me, he entered, and proceeded
to the center of the room, while I closed the door behind him, and bolted
it again. If he noticed my action, he did not choose to comment. Instead,
he continued towards the chair where Mademoiselle was seated.

"I had hoped that you might get along more pleasantly, you and my son,"
he observed. "Surely he has points in his favor--youth, candor, even a
certain amount of breeding. You have been hard on him, Mademoiselle. Take
my word for it--he is to blame for nothing."

"So you have been listening," she said.

"As doubtless Mademoiselle expected," said my father. "I had hoped--"

"And so had I," I said.

He turned and faced me.

"Hoped," I continued, raising my voice, "that you might enter here, and
leave your servant somewhere else. I have wanted to have a quiet talk
with you this morning."

If he noted anything unusual in my request, he did not show it, not so
much as by a flicker of an eyelash.

"It has hardly been opportune for conversation," he admitted. "But now,