A note of pleased excitement crept into Pendleton's voice. "You have been with him all day?"
"Most all day."
He paddled close to her, the candle shaking a little in his agitation. He was wearing an old-fashioned night-shirt slit at the sides, and revealing an unexpectedly plump calf. "Oh, Pen, it's all right between you two, isn't it?" he said. "It means so much to me!"
Pen was too weary to get angry all over again. She merely smiled faintly at the irony of life.
He had put off his grand airs with his clothes. He was as simple now as his old-fashioned shirt. "Pen dear, think what it means to me! A frustrated old man! I'm a failure. I can't do anything for you. And I see this chance for you to establish yourself! Don't let any romantic youthful folly stand in the way, daughter. There's nothing in it. I know. Safety is everything!"
"Dad, you must leave this to me," Pen muttered painfully.
"I will! I will!" he said brightly. "I have every confidence in you. If you think of the matter at all there can be but the one answer!"
"Go to bed, dear," said Pen, kissing him.