“My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. Her tone was icy. It would be downright cruel to disillusion her. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. As soon as she noticed the stranger, she honoured him with an extremely impudent stare, and scarcely endeavoured to disguise the admiration with which his good looks impressed her. Get out your pad and pencil. This man and he were alike, and about the same age. Father and daughter regarded each other warily, each more than a little insecure with the other. These petals! I’ve been wanting to cry all the evening, cry here on your shoulder for my petals. ” “I am coming with you,” he said firmly. The impassivity of her features changed at last. I am aware that you ran away from there, but—’ ‘Certainly I ran away,’ she said, meeting his gaze with defiance in her own.
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