" He patted her hand. Wood a very free-and-easy sort of stare, winked at Mr. I have suffered him to be brought up decently—honestly; because I would make his fall the greater, and deepen the wound I meant to inflict upon his mother. " "Oh, that!" she said, with a deprecating gesture. Her father was holding her waist, smiling. He scratched his upper lip reflectively. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. His idea was to get behind this sustained listlessness. He had assumed that her leaving home was the point at issue, that everything turned on that, and that the sole alternative was obedience, and she had fallen in with that assumption until rebellion seemed a sacred principle.
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