Olympia saw him and sank to a chair, laughing maliciously.
"Ask him," she said, pointing to the man; "ask him. Don't look so astonished, Brown. I have told her all about it, and you see how white it has made her. She does not seem to relish you for a father much more than she does the stage!"
Caroline dashed the tears from her eyes, and arose, with a smile breaking through the scattered moisture.
"Not like him! He has always been kind, good, generous. I did not need this to make me love him. Father, my father! how many times I have called you so, but this is real! Oh, God be thanked that you are my father!"
"Ask him how he intends to support you," broke in Olympia, washing her hands over again in dumb show, and drawing in her breath till it hissed through her white teeth, as if a snake had crept up from her bad heart.
"I will support her! God helping me, I will! Don't feel down-hearted, my poor child. You shall not be ashamed of me. For your sake I will do anything. I can go into an orchestra."
"What! I ashamed of you, my father? Why, it gives us to each other. I have something in this wide world to love!"
Brown's eyes filled with tears. He was trembling violently.
"Father, my dear father!" murmured Caroline, drawing close to him, with a feeling that he was all the friend she had in the world, "do not look so troubled. This gives me such joy that I cannot bear to see tears in your eyes, my father."
Brown did not speak; he had no power of voice, but stood, with her hands in his, looking into her face in pathetic silence.