Part 15 (1/2)
”Oh, but Papa,” replied the spoiled girl, ”I am not at all in a serious frame of mind.”
”It is highly probable that you will find yourself so at the end of our talk.”
”Charming prospect! After such an inducement as that I can't resist any longer.” She sank back into a low chair near a great case of books, for they were sitting in the cosy library.
”I met young Dunlop coming out of the house as I was coming in,” began the Commodore. ”I was sorry to see that.”
”I was sorry to see it, too, Papa, but he couldn't be persuaded to stay longer.”
”That is not a very respectful answer to give to your old father; nevertheless, I am glad to hear it, as it a.s.sures me that you have not reached the point when his absence will leave you sad.”
”Oh, no! But I am willing to admit that over Mr. Galton's departure I did come very near shedding tears--of joy.”
”I hope my little girl will have no cause to shed any other kind.”
”His little girl” endeavoured to look oracular as she replied: ”That will largely depend upon the nature of the information you are about to communicate to me.”
”It is only a request, my dear! I wish for your own sake that you would have as little as possible to do with that young Dunlop.”
There was an appreciable interval of silence. Rose stared hard at the fire. Her father added, ”Of course, I do not wish you to do anything unreasonable.”
”I am sure of that,” said the girl softly, ”nor anything unkind.”
The gentleman stirred a little uneasily in his chair. ”You must remember,” he said, ”that the greatest unkindness one can do another is to encourage false hopes in him.”
”How would you like me to treat him?”
”Oh, my dear child, I can't tell. You know perfectly well yourself. Be preoccupied, absent-minded, indifferent, when he comes. Make him repeat what he says, and then answer him at random. Look as though you had a thousand things to distract your attention, and treat him as though he were the chair on which he is sitting.”
”And you think that would be an ample and delicate return for the countless kindnesses shown me by himself, and his people last summer?”
”Oh, hang himself and his people!” was the Commodore's mental comment.
Aloud he said, ”Well, the young fellow could hardly leave you to perish under the horse's heels. What he did was only common decency.”
”Then, perhaps, it would be as well to treat him with common decency.
Don't you think that desirable quality is omitted from your course of treatment?” Her tones were those of caressing gentleness, but the flame of the firelight was not more red than the cheek on which it gleamed.
”Why, bless me, Rose, I don't want you to give him the cut direct.
There is no need to put him either in paradise or the inferno. Better adopt a happy medium.”
”Yes; but purgatory is rather an unhappy medium.”
”Well, my dear, I have nothing more to say. I suppose it is natural that you should set aside the counsel of a man who has loved you for nineteen years in favour of the attention of one who has known you about the same number of weeks.”
”Papa, you are unjust!” The repressed tears came at last, but they were dried as quickly as they dropped.
”Can't you understand,” he continued in a softened tone, ”that I would willingly give him anything in return for his kindness--except my eldest daughter?”