“I don’t think so, daddy. Maitland was quite indifferent to Ray or what becomes of him. I’ve been wondering whether I ought to tell somebody.”
“Captain Gordon or Mr. Elk,” suggested her father dryly, and the girl flushed. “You like that young man, Ella? No, I’m not referring to Elk, who is anything but young; I mean Dick Gordon.”
“Yes,” she said after a pause, “I like him very much.”
“I hope you aren’t going to like him too much, darling,” said John Bennett, and their eyes met.
“Why not, daddy?” It almost hurt her to ask.
“Because”—he seemed at a loss as to how he should proceed—“because it’s not desirable. He occupies a different position from ourselves, but that isn’t the only reason. I don’t want you to have a heartache, and I say this, knowing that, if that heartache comes, I shall be the cause.”
He saw her face change, and then:
“What do you wish me to do?” she asked.
He rose slowly, and, walking to her, put his arm about her shoulder.
“Do whatever you like, Ella,” he said gently. “There is a curse upon me, and you must suffer for my sin. Perhaps he will never know—but I am tired of expecting miracles.”