"Why, papa, I never see Mr. Boggs," she said. "It is weeks and weeks since he came here. As for Mr. Weil, we all treat him nicely, I am sure, and are glad to have him come."
"Yes," he admitted. "You use him quite right, my child. I am not complaining; only, if you could show him particular attention, something more than the ordinary—" He paused, trying to finish what he wished to say. "There may be a time when he will be of great value to me—and—I want him to feel—you observe things so cleverly—do you think Millicent cares for him?"
Daisy looked up astonished.
"Cares—for—Mr. Weil?"
Her father nodded.
"He has been here several times a week for months, and most of his time here has been spent with her. I thought—I hoped that she cared for him."
He thought! He hoped! Daisy had never had such an idea in her head until that moment. She had a dim idea that her father would give up either of his daughters with great regret, although she could not help knowing that the relations between him and Millicent were not as cordial as those between him and herself. And he "hoped" that Millie would marry, and that she would marry Mr. Weil! Her mind dwelt upon this strange thought. She tried to find a reason for it. Was there any stronger incentive in her father's mind than a desire to see Millie well settled in life, with a good husband?
Had he a fear that the time might soon come when he could not provide for her?
Or was there a worse fear—the kind of fear that had haunted him in relation to Hannibal?