"They are enjoying their visit."
"So it seems!" And then, after a short silence, "Are you enjoying it also?"
"I? Of course!"
"Then it's all right!" He slipped a rubber band about his papers and laid them on his books. "I drove out to young Montague's yesterday," he said to his daughter, standing idly before the fire. Frances had found so few moments alone with her father lately that she was making the most of these.
"It's dreary out there," the professor complained; "these winter days are going to be hard for him."
"Don't worry! I've never seen a man less inclined to be doleful!"
"Do you think so," said the professor eagerly, "now, lately he hasn't seemed so—so bright as he used to be. I thought perhaps he was finding it lonely. He is an excellent farmer, do you know," he said with sudden enthusiasm, "he has sold enough wood off the place to pay half of the cost of it."
"Oh! what a pity!"
"Pity!"