"What did you say?" he asked.
"I advised him," replied his daughter, smiling indulgently, "not to mention it. I said you were rather fond of your own judgment in some things, and might be offended."
"Well, Jerry does his best," said Lottingar; "but you are right, Lottie, for all that. He'll muck things. You must keep the young fool out of his way. Can't you take him out for walks, or something?"
"Walks? What excitement!" Miss Lottingar cast up her eyes pathetically.
"Well, you can go motoring with him as soon as we get a chauffeur. That's what I wanted to see you about."
"Who is the chauffeur? One of the—one of your friends?"
"No, worse luck! Every man I can trust is in this business already. We must make shift with some absolutely straight fool."
"That'll be a pleasant change," remarked Miss Lottingar.
"It will be all right in the long run," continued her father. "He need never suspect anything. We can keep him mowing the grass or something during his spare time. And if you can't bring off that proposal within a week, my girl," he concluded, throwing his cigarette into the grate, "you're not the sort I took you for."
"Give me the motor; I'll do the rest," said Miss Lottie, quite undisturbed by this direct reference to her virgin affections.