Cally felt herself turning white. She steadied herself with one hand on the writing-leaf of the desk.
"We were talking about the new Works," said she.... "Papa--I want to introduce a good friend of mine--Dr. Vivian."
"Oh, Mr. Heth!... I'm so glad to know you, sir."
Thus the fearless young voice at her side. But Cally was gazing, transfixed, at her father, on whose face the friendly greeting air was giving place to astonished displeasure, not untouched with indignation. He had stopped short in the middle of the floor, and the hand he had been automatically putting out fell dead at his side.
"Oh!--Ah!--Dr. Vivian!" said Mr. Heth, with the stiffest inclination. And then, his look going from one to the other of the two young people, he added, as if involuntarily: "Vivian?... Ah! I'd--have expected a different-looking man!"
The pause then, the suspense of all action from the world, was infinitesimal. But it seemed long to Cally. And she thought she could never forgive her father if he turned away, leaving this slight upon her friend.
"Papa," she began, unsteadily, "I don't think...."
But once again her sentence hung unended. V.V., advancing, came then into her line of vision; and Cally saw that he had no thought for the cover of her skirt. Her father's forbidding deportment had not escaped the young man; there were both a diffidence and a dignity in his bearing. And yet she saw that his face wore like a flower that guileless and confiding look he had, the look of a man who cannot doubt that, in their hearts, all mean as kindly as he himself. He moved upon her silent father as if singing aloud an immortal faith in the goodness of his fellows: Though he slay me, yet will I trust him....
But what his audible voice was saying was very simple, and a little embarrassed:
"I've felt that I've just come to know you to-day, Mr. Heth ... to understand things better. I suppose it's too much to hope that you can forget what's past, all at once. But I'd be mortified to feel.... Ah, sir!--I've felt honored by your House to-day...."