“Why!” he exclaimed, “Miss Canby's folks came from Down-East somewheres—Bangor, Maine, I think 'twas. She told me so, herself.”
The remark was received in various ways, by various individuals. Serena frowned; Gertrude bit her lip; B. Phelps Black burst into a roar of laughter.
“I did not mean my statement literally, Captain Dott,” explained Annette in gracious toleration. “But when people are independent and free from the usual conventionalities, as Miss Canby is, we speak of them as Bohemians. It is an—er—a term among artists and musicians, I believe.”
Daniel understood little or nothing of this. He understood perfectly well, however, that he had blundered somehow, a glance at his wife's face told him that. Gertrude smiled at him kindly and observed: “Father is like myself, his acquaintance in Bohemia has been limited.”
Captain Dan muttered that he guessed likely that was so, adding that he had an Armenian steward once who was a pretty good fellow. Then he subsided. Serena took up the conversation, changing the subject to the ever fruitful one of her beloved Chapter. In a moment the two ladies were deep in a discussion concerning the election of National officers for the Legion, an election which was to take place in Boston a few months later. Gertrude joined in the discussion, a proceeding which her father noticed with apprehension.
Mr. Black accepted an invitation to smoke, and he and Captain Dan went into the library. After the cigars were lighted, B. Phelps, lowering his voice so as not to be heard in the adjoining room, said suddenly:
“Dan, is that daughter of yours going off her head like the rest of the females?”
Daniel was indignant.
“Off her head!” he repeated. “Gertie! She's as smart and sensible a girl as ever lived. I say so, even if she is my daughter. What are you talkin' about?”
Mr. Black waved his hand. “Keep your hair on, Dan,” he counselled pleasantly. “I like Gertrude, always have. I always thought she was as sensible as she is pretty, and that's saying something. But what has got into her since she got here in Scarford? You used to tell me she didn't care anything for society and all the rest of it; now she seems to be as daffy as her—well, as my wife, if you like that better.”