would be no use. But you aren't. And I flatter myself I'm not the
ordinary father. You are in love. Or you think you are. Which is the
same thing--for the present. It's a fine thing to be in love. I'm quite
serious. I like you tremendously just for being in love. Yes, I do. Now
I know something about being in love. You've got enough imagination to
realise that, and I want you to realise it. I want you to realise that I
know a bit more about love than you do. Stands to reason, doesn't it?"

"Yes, father," said Sissie, placidly respectful.

"Love has got one drawback. It very gravely impairs the critical
faculty. You think you can judge our friend Oswald with perfect
impartiality. You think you see him as he is. But if you will exercise
your imagination you will admit that you can't. You perceive that, don't
you?"

"Quite, dad," the adorable child concurred.

"Well, do you know anything about him, really?"

"Not much, father."

"Neither do I. I've nothing whatever against him. But I shouldn't be
playing straight with you if I didn't tell you that at the club he's not
greatly admired. And a club is a very good judge of a man, the best
judge of a man. And then as regards his business. Supposing you were not
in love with him, should you like his business? You wouldn't. Naturally.
There are other things, but I won't discuss them now. All I suggest to
you is that you should go a bit slow. Exercise caution. Control
yourself. Test him a little. If you and I weren't the greatest pals I