“Not a great many. I just—”
“Why didn't you go to the Chapter to-night? It must have been an open meeting, otherwise Mr. Hungerford couldn't have gone. Why didn't you go with Mother?”
Here was the one question Daniel had dreaded most. To answer it truthfully meant telling of the quarrel between Serena and himself. He could not tell that, not even to his daughter.
“I—I didn't feel like goin', somehow,” he faltered.
“That's strange. I knew that you were not particularly interested in the Chapter—at least you never were in Trumet—but I never knew you to stay at home when Mother asked you to go with her. Did she ask you?”
“Now—now, Gertie, 'tain't likely I—I—”
“Never mind; you needn't answer. Tell me more about this new relative of ours, 'Cousin Percy.' Do you like him, now that you really know him?”
“Why—why, yes, I like him all right enough, I guess. Course he and I are different, in some ways; but, then, he's younger by a good many years.”
Gertrude nodded slowly. “I see,” she said. “You've made up your mind not to tell me anything, haven't you, Daddy? You wouldn't hurt anyone's feelings for the world, and you are afraid I may blame Mother. Well, I am not going to blame anyone yet. And I am not going to quiz you any longer. But I came home to find out things, and I am going to find out. If you won't help me, I must help myself.”
Her father leaned forward and patted her hand.