He took an early opportunity of saying to his daughter:
"I think Mr. Gore a nice man. He is correct. I approve of him. And it is an advantage that he is a Catholic."
To call it "an advantage" seemed to Mariquita a dry way of putting it, but then her father was dry.
"Living in the house," he continued, wishing she would say something, "he must be intimate with us. I find him suitable for that. One would not care for it in every case. Had he turned out a different sort of person, I should not have wished for any friendship between him and yourselves—Sarella and you. It might have been out of place."
"I do not think there would ever be much friendship between Sarella and him," said Mariquita; "she hardly listens when he talks about things—"
"But you should listen. It would be not courteous to make him think you found his conversation tedious."
"Tedious! I listen with interest."
"No doubt. And there is nothing out of place in your showing it. He is no longer a stranger to us."
"He is kind," she said. "He worked hard to help Jack in getting his shed fit for Ginger. It was he who built the partitions. Jack told me. Mr. Gore said nothing about it. Also, he was good to Ben Sturt when he hurt his knee and could not ride; he went and sat with him, chatting, and read funny books to him. He is a very kind person. I am glad you like him—I was not sure."
"I waited. One wishes to know a stranger before liking him, as you call it; what is more important, I approve of him, and find him correct."