Again he regarded her earnestly.
“Come, Dad,” said Shirley, “you are blocking the way. The people want to get off.”
“I’d like to know,” said Mr. Willing, looking about fiercely, “who is going to tell me to move.”
“I’ll tell you, Dad,” replied Shirley, smiling.
“Oh, well,” said her father, “that is a different matter. You and your mother are alike, both tyrants.”
He stepped aside, and thus allowed the first of the passengers who had been held back by this conversation to descend; and as the next one was Mabel, he caught her in his arms and held her also for a moment.
“Where is father?” asked Mabel gently, freeing herself from the elderly man’s caresses.
“He’s waiting at home for you,” replied Mr. Willing.
“Why didn’t he come to meet me?”
“Well,” said Mr. Willing, “I reckon he wasn’t feeling quite as well as he might, so he asked me to do the honors.”