As Mrs. Thorne had said, she joined her husband in the library as soon as she thought it advisable. Dr. Harcourt, properly conducted by a servant, made his appearance, when he was suitably prepared for the occasion, and met Mrs. Thorne, rather particularly gowned for the occasion. Any details, however, were wasted on Dr. Harcourt, who thought her a pretty, attractive, refined woman but was incapable of being impressed with more. Indeed, the girls and faculty women of his university were accustomed to the same sort of thing, and evening dress was no novelty to the professor.
The talk which had been begun by the gentlemen on their way from the station was continued. Mr. and Mrs. Thorne were very much relieved to note that Dr. Harcourt had no wish to upset existing arrangements at present, if at all. “Unusual things have often a way of disposing of themselves,” said he. “Suppose we wait to see what ideas develop. My wife and I hope that our daughter will like us. That is the extent of our hope at present. We are so utterly surprised, you know, in spite of Shirley’s having written about the resemblance. It is gratifying to know that we have another daughter, and my wife’s heart is yearning to see her. Our home is open to her, like our hearts, but a young girl with her home and training here, her love yours,—it must be bewildering, indeed.”
Mrs. Thorne was gratified to hear such sentiments and to see what a distinguished looking gentleman the professor was. To him she suggested that they withdraw for a little while and send his daughter to him. “Very well,” said he. “That would probably be less embarrassing to her.”
Sidney, too, had taken great care with her toilet. Her stylish little frock became her, and she had a pathetic smile for her father as she crossed the room to meet him. He rose, laying a book on the table by him, and took several steps toward her.
“Why,” said he, with a puzzled, half-believing look, “this is not Shirley, by any chance?”
“No, sir; this is Sidney.”
Sidney had dreaded this meeting. Would her father, perhaps fold her in his arms and weep over her? How she would hate that! But so would this father. With kind eyes he looked down at her, holding her cold hand that had been held out to meet his. “My dear child, to think that we have been missing your life with us all these years. Come, sit down by me for a few moments. As I have been telling your—parents, it is a bewildering situation, but I assure you that neither your affection nor a choice of homes will be forced on you. We must think out what is best. We shall try to enter into our daughter’s life without making her unhappy.”
“Oh, you are like Shirley, aren’t you?” said Sidney, trying to realize that this was her father. More than one student had been put at his ease by the kind understanding of this professor. It was impossible that his own daughter should not like him.
“Am I? In what way?”
“Thinking what is good for everybody, as she says.”