"I see she has won your heart. A man is handicapped when he has to train a girl child. And she wants training. If she had been a boy, I would have found the task easier."
"Oh, don't take her so heavily," said Rowena. "Let her trot round with you, and do things with you. She'll learn from your talk what is right and wrong."
"Will she? I'm a poor specimen at the best; and I know nothing of women and their ways."
"Bring her up as a boy, then," said Rowena, laughing at his forlorn tone. "She is, as she says, half a boy already. Don't act the heavy father. Of course she will have to be educated later on. But let her have a holiday with you now. Do you know she has prayed that she might have a 'proper father' from the time she was a baby? Don't disappoint her. And when she worries you, send her over to me. Shags and I understand her."
"May I smoke?" the General asked.
Rowena looked at him with laughter in her eyes, as he slowly produced a favourite pipe out of his pocket.
"I suppose," he said reflectively, "you can't mould children as you wish. They resist now, more than they used to do. I should like to mould her after the pattern of my mother. I don't want to have one of these self-assertive modern young women as my daughter, later on."
"I am afraid Mysie has too much character to be shaped into another person's mould. But she is warm-hearted, and if a girl loves, she can be governed through her love."
There was silence between them.
Then Rowena said: