It was some ten minutes later that he was roused by the ringing of the door-bell. He rose, crossed to the door, and opened it, to admit Mrs. Pope and Alice.
Mrs. Pope advanced into the room with her accustomed air of ruffled dignity. “Donald—what does all this foolishness mean?” she inquired.
“I don’t understand you,” he answered shortly. “What do you want here?”
“Can you have the audacity to ask me that? I am here to protect my daughter’s rights.”
“Did she send you?” he asked quietly.
“I do not need anyone to send me when my child’s happiness is at stake. What does this outrageous conduct mean?”
“Mother! For goodness sake, be a little more polite,” interjected Alice.
“Alice, be quiet!” Her mother regarded her with stern disapproval. “This is no time for mincing matters.” She turned angrily to her son-in-law. “Do you intend to answer my question?”
Donald regarded her with a dislike he took no pains to hide. “I owe no explanation of my conduct to you,” he said.
“Sir, do you think a mother has no rights?”