“Do you think we had better discuss the subject?” asked Mr. Randolph with grave disapprobation; “besides,—Miss Dare, I have been wishing to ask you—how soon does your father intend returning to America?”
“Gracious knows,” answered Miss Dare, with a shrug of her thin shoulders, “I don’t. But, Mr. Randolph, if you hear of any one going over—any friend of yours, I mean, would you mind letting me know? Papa wants me to join him if I can hear of a good escort.”
“Perhaps I may have the pleasure; I may take a fortnight abroad this spring.”
“Papa!” cried Pinkie, “you will take me this time! You promised!”
“Well, I suppose I might as well be bothered with two girls as one,” said Mr. Randolph amiably. “Your father was speaking of giving you a year or so at a French convent when I last saw him, Miss Virgie. Is that the idea at present?”
“Yes, sir; and oh! if you’d only leave Pinkie there too! I shouldn’t mind it if she were along. Oh, Pinks! wot larks!”
“Ah! I fear the Sisters would take them for condors,” observed the papa, with his celebrated genial laugh. “Well, I’ll think it over; but don’t set your hearts on it, you two.”
Wherewith they rose from the table.
“Nothing could be better,” mused the tender-hearted American, noting the sudden blankness of Louis’ face at the proposed journey. “Her own proposal, no interference or parental tyranny on my part. And then—Dare! ‘The old blood holds its own,’ on Wall Street, in his case, and I’m positive he has some little game in hand there in Paris. It will do no harm to look after him. His daughter would make an excellent wife for Frank one of these days; and if the boy is up to any rascality with his lockets and things, it is just as well she should be abroad, out of the way of hearing of it. As for this other affair, there is no harm done at present,—two such children!—but it is just as well to get Pinkie out of this house with its atmosphere of free thought and Socialism. Yes, nothing could be better!”
Rendered even more genial than his wont by these reflections, the rich man paused, ere leaving the dining-room, to say to Louis,—