"Come in, papa! Do!" cried Ida. "Won't you have a glass of champagne?"

"Pray excuse me," said her father, coldly, "I feel that I am intruding.

I did not know that you were entertaining. Perhaps you will kindly

let me know when you have finished. You will find me in my study." He

ignored the two young men completely, and, closing the door, retired,

deeply hurt and mortified, to his room. A quarter of an hour afterwards

he heard the door slam, and his two daughters came to announce that the

guests were gone.

"Guests! Whose guests?" he cried angrily. "What is the meaning of this

exhibition?"

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"We have been giving a little supper, papa. They were our guests."

"Oh, indeed!" The Doctor laughed sarcastically. "You think it right,

then, to entertain young bachelors late at night, to, smoke and drink

with them, to---- Oh, that I should ever have lived to blush for my own

daughters! I thank God that your dear mother never saw the day."

"Dearest papa," cried Clara, throwing her arms about him. "Do not be

angry with us. If you understood all, you would see that there is no

harm in it."

"No harm, miss! Who is the best judge of that?"

"Mrs. Westmacott," suggested Ida, slyly.

The Doctor sprang from his chair. "Confound Mrs. Westmacott!" he cried,

striking frenziedly into the air with his hands. "Am I to hear of

nothing but this woman? Is she to confront me at every turn? I will

endure it no longer."

"But it was your wish, papa."

"Then I will tell you now what my second and wiser wish is, and we shall

see if you will obey it as you have the first."

"Of course we will, papa."

"Then my wish is, that you should forget these odious notions which you

have imbibed, that you should dress and act as you used to do,

before ever you saw this woman, and that, in future, you confine

your intercourse with her to such civilities as are necessary between

neighbors."

"We are to give up Mrs. Westmacott?"

"Or give up me."

"Oh, dear dad, how can you say anything so cruel?" cried Ida, burrowing

her towsy golden hair into her father's shirt front, while Clara pressed

her cheek against his whisker. "Of course we shall give her up, if you

prefer it."

"Of course we shall, papa."

The Doctor patted the two caressing heads. "These are my own two girls

again," he cried. "It has been my fault as much as yours. I have been

astray, and you have followed me in my error. It was only by seeing your

mistake that I have become conscious of my own. Let us set it aside, and

neither say nor think anything more about it."




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