But Frederick Varian repulsed the offered caress and said, sternly:
“I want no affection from a wilful, disobedient child! Give me your word, Betty, to respect my wishes, and I’ll always be glad of your loving ways.”
But Betty was angry now.
“I’ll give you no such promise! I shall conduct myself as I please with my friends and my acquaintances. You know me well enough to know that I never do anything that is in bad form or in bad taste. If I choose to flirt with the young men, or even, as you call it, encourage them, I propose to do so! And I resent your interference, and I deny your right to forbid me in such matters. And, too, I’ll go so far as to warn you that if you persist in this queer attitude you’ve taken,—you’ll be sorry! Remember that!”
Betty’s eyes flashed, but she was quiet rather than excited.
Varian himself was nervous and agitated. His fingers clenched and his lips trembled with the intensity of his feelings and as Betty voiced her rebellious thoughts he stared at her in amazement.
“What are you two quarreling about?” came the surprised accents of Mrs Varian as she came out through the French window from the library and looked curiously at them.
“Oh, Mother,” Betty cried, “Dad’s gone nutty! He says I never can marry anybody.”
“What nonsense, Fred”; she did not take it at all seriously. “Of course, Betty will marry some day, but not yet. Don’t bother about it at present.”
“But Daddy’s bothering very much about it at present. At least, he’s bothering me,—don’t let little Betty be bothered, Mummy,—will you?”