“Yes.”
“But—but—why?” She became a little confused under his calm gaze, feeling on the instant that she had implied an accusation unjustly.
“Because, Ruth, I have become convinced of it only within the past week. Your mother knows it herself, and is trying to hide it from me.”
“Did she admit it?”
“I have not spoken of it to her; she is very excitable, and as she wishes to conceal it, I do not care to annoy her by telling her of my discovery.”
“But isn’t it wrong—unwise—to allow her to dissipate so much?”
“I have managed within the past week to keep you as quiet as possible.”
“But to-night—forgive me, Father—you insist on our going to this reception.”
“Yes, my sweet confessor; but I have a good reason,—one not to be spoken of.”
“‘Those who trust us educate us,’” she pleaded in wistful earnestness.