"I'll—see—about it—yes, yes, it may be done! And you, Dido, my daughter, shall now have your heart's desire. These will bring you riches—money—money in millions. Do not deny, Dido, that money is your idol; you worship money," he added, gazing at her austerely.
"I, papa!" she cried. "Oh, no!"
"Then why do you annoy me with your prayers and tears, craving money, money, money? What is money? A few miserable pounds of yellow ore; and they tell me that it makes a man happy! Miserable, miserable, wretch!" he exclaimed with angry scorn.
"But, indeed, papa——"
"There, that is sufficient!" he shouted, with a fiery flash of his black eyes.
"Niece Helen," turning to her, after a somewhat awkward interval, and surveying her critically, "you will doubtless make a graceful aerial figure. Let me assure you that a happy day is coming, when you may wing your way back to tropical lands, and migrate at pleasure, like the swallows, and the wild geese."
Here he paused, and flapped his pinions so successfully, that both candles were instantly extinguished, and the company were left in outer darkness. Dead silence ensued, which lasted about a minute.
"Dido, you know your way," said her father at length in his ordinary tone, "never mind the lights, the matches are below.—Go; I will no longer detain you, my children. I have some important details to accomplish that will occupy me for hours. Go—good-night, good-night."
Thus imperiously dismissed by this voice from the gloom, the three girls groped their way slowly, and carefully, downstairs, and finally into the hall, where, sitting down on the first seats they could find, they sat and stared at one another, in solemn silence. Of course Katie was the first to speak.
"I wonder if this will come to anything?" she exclaimed. "It's very wonderful,—but then the Padré always thinks of things that never occur to other people!"