“Make it quickly, father.”
The girl’s eyes burned with such a light that all her pure and generous soul shone through it.
“Dear little girl,” he murmured proudly.
She smiled at him, with the rare smile of those who have lived long with sorrow.
“Father,” she said, “I have always thought you would be the one to defend him.”
II
THE FAMILY COUNCIL
“AM I in the way?” asked Margaret.
She stopped on the threshold of her father’s office, seeing such a numerous company gathered there.
“I was going to look for you,” said her father. “You belong here with us.”
A tall, withered old man, with his coat closely buttoned up, who was leaning on the mantelpiece, beneath which a bright fire was burning, threw out in a high head voice: