"Oh, because he looked so stern and angry when he stamped his foot at me and ordered me out of the room."
The afternoon passed very slowly in the constant yet vain expectation of a visit from her father or a summons to his presence. Several times she was on the point of venturing into it without being called, but her heart failed her; she was not sure that it might not be looked upon as an additional offence; he had sent her out of the room without saying how long he meant her banishment to last.
Besides, she wanted to be sure of seeing him alone; she would not have even Rose a witness of the interview.
So she waited till the hour when the latter would be engaged in seeing little Horace put to bed for the night, then in much trepidation went in search of her father. She felt quite sure of finding him alone, for there were no guests in the house, and as it was still storming, there seemed no danger of any one calling.
She went first to the parlor, which was their principal family room when alone. Yes, there he was, sitting in an easy-chair by a window, his back toward her, doubtless reading, and quite alone.
She stole noiselessly to the back of his chair, her heart beating very fast and loud. She almost thought he must hear it; but he seemed unaware of her approach, entirely absorbed in his book.
She caught hold of the chair-back to steady and support herself, for she was trembling in every limb.
"Papa, I—" she began, her voice full of tears.
"I have nothing to say to you, Miss Dinsmore, except that I forbid you to address me by that title or to call me father, or to take any liberties with me that would be unsuitable in a stranger guest in the house," he interrupted, in a freezing tone, without turning toward her, and with his eyes still upon his book.
"Oh, I can't bear it! I can't bear it!" she cried, with a burst of sobs and tears, throwing herself at his feet. "I know I've behaved very badly, but I'm—"