"She got it first and she's giving it to all the rest of us. Oh, Papa, it's the very first time anything like this has ever happened on any of our trips. It's making me quite wretched."
"But what is it, little girl?"
"I don't know, at least, not exactly."
"Not exactly? Then you do know something?"
Billie did not wish to tell her father about the letter Nancy had written. She felt that her father might not take such a charitable view of it as she had, and she had a feeling she must protect poor Nancy, wounded as she had been by her strange behavior.
"Then you do know something?" repeated Mr. Campbell.
"Oh, just the littlest something, but I don't want to tell you, Papa."
Mr. Campbell settled himself into the depths of his chair and drew his arm around his daughter's waist.
"That's right, little daughter. I'd rather you'd be loyal than anything else in the world," he said, stroking her hand. "But I'm going to tell you a little bit of something. I want to ask your advice. I don't know what to do. You must help your old father decide."
"Fire away, Papa."