“Well then, I guess I know what to do. I guess I can wait. You can trust me, you know. I won’t bother your daughter. All the same, we are all in Paris together, and I can’t help seeing her sometimes, can I?” His eyes smiled, but he was very serious. I realized how serious he was when Philibert remarked a few days later that he had met quite a nice young American lunching at the Jockey Club, quite a man of the world, a national polo player, a Monsieur Chilbrook. Did I know him? Yes, I said I knew him, and had known his family always. Philibert thought I might ask him to dinner with Colonel and Mrs. House, the following week. I did so, but Sam made me no sign. He was perfectly correct. The only thing that was noticeable was his successful effort to interest Philibert. I myself was surprised. Poor Sam—little good it did him.
Jinny seemed happy. She enjoyed being grown up and going to parties. In June we gave her a coming out ball, for in spite of all my premonitions we had again taken possession of our house. After that I took her to a number of dances. She was surrounded by young men of course. Sam was only one of a dozen; she treated them all with the same radiant aloofness. She made me no confidences. Her intimacy with her father was greater than ever. Together they had supervised the unpacking and rearrangement of the household treasures. Philibert was educating her. I observed that she had his flair for bibelots. She had already all the patter of the amateur collector. They went shopping together a good deal. More often than not, coming in from some luncheon I would find that they had gone out together for the afternoon.
On one such day, when I was sitting alone, Sam Chilbrook was announced. He was troubled. His eyes were dark, his young face tired.
“Jinny loves me, I know she does, Madame de Joigny, but she is unhappy. It is time I went to her father. You see I’m afraid,” he stammered, “afraid that she won’t have the courage—if I don’t—”
“But have you spoken to her—I thought you promised.”
“I’ve not spoken—I’ve kept my promise, but I wish you hadn’t exacted it. I know your daughter now. I know her character, and I love her. She spoke yesterday in a way that frightened me—”
“What did she say?”
“She said that she loved her father better than any one in the world.”
“That was all?”