“No.”
“What I’m getting at,” he went on;—“you oughtn’t to think too much about intellectual fodder or be bored with people your own age because they can’t offer it.”
At that she glanced wanly at him across the table. “I’m not, Papa. They don’t bore me.”
“Then I can’t understand your not seeing more of ’em. It isn’t normal, and you’re missing a lot of the rightful pleasures of youth. It’s natural for youth to seek youth, and not to devote all its time to an old codger like me. I believe you need a change.” He looked at her severely and nodded. “I’m serious.”
“What change?”
“Your aunt Mildred’s written me again about your visiting there,” he said. “Your cousin Cornelia finished her school last year. Now she’s home from eight months abroad and they really want you.”
“Oh, no,” Elsie said, quietly, and looked again at her plate.
“Why not?”
“I don’t care to go, Papa.”
“Why don’t you?”