"Helen. Why, dad, you seem surprised," laughed the boy. "Haven't you noticed—suspected?"
"Well, no I haven't," retorted the man grimly. "Why should I? I never heard of the young lady before. What is this—some college tomfoolery? I might have known, I suppose, what would happen."
"College! Why, dad, she's here. You know her. It's Helen,—Miss Barnet."
"Here! There's no one here but your aunt and—" He stopped, and half started from his chair. "You don't—you can't mean—your aunt's nursemaid!"
At the scornful emphasis an indignant red dyed the boy's face.
"I didn't think that of you, dad," he rebuked.
Angry as he was, the man was conscious of the hurt the words gave him. But he held his ground.
"And I did not think this of you, Burke," he rejoined coldly.
"You mean—"
"I mean that I supposed my son would show some consideration as to the woman he chose for his wife."