"Not that, exactly," said Cally, at a considerable loss. "Still, I was very much surprised.... Do you mind about the--the articles, particularly, papa?"
"I do."
"Isn't there something you can do--to have it all stopped? Couldn't you have a suit--or--?"
Her father exploded. She had touched a sore point.
"Sue! Sue a lot of paupers that haven't got a shirt to their backs! Put 'em in prison?--likely with a lot more paupers on the jury, thinkin' a successful business man's anybody's meat. Sue!--and what'll you get? I'll tell you! An impudent--offensive--malicious muckraking of your own private business...."
Cally, looking at papa's indignant face, felt much drawn to him. However, the business conversation was here interrupted, Cally being called away to the telephone. She went, wondering intently if she could not somehow help in this threatened trouble. She had felt an impulse toward doing something useful. What more useful than assisting to shield her father from undeserved abuse?...
"It's only me, Cally," said Henrietta Cooney's voice, "or I, as they've got it in the grammars. I just called up to tell you not to forget the meeting to-morrow."
"What meeting, Hen?"
"I see I did well to call," came over the wire, on the wings of the Cooney laugh. "The Saturday meeting at the Woman's Club, cousin, that I engaged you for the other day. I've just heard that V.V.'s going to speak, too, which made me want you specially. Don't say no."
"Of course not. I want to go, very much."