“Impossible! May I guess? Was it about yourself?”
“No.”
“Me?”
I nodded.
“Something painful about me, and something you cannot tell me. Is it——?”
“Do not trouble your head about it: I refuse any more information.” Then I rose and looked at the clock. “Why, it is half-past nine! I am going to say good-bye to you now, papa.”
My father looked up from his cards.
“What! are you too going to a party?”
“No; I am going home. I went to bed very late yesterday.”
“And so you are sleepy? Tilling, that is not very complimentary to you!”