The next morning father and I breakfasted alone, and I said to him:
“In case of festivaty in the Familey, such as a Wedding, is my Allowence to cover clothes and so on for it?”
He put down his paper and searched me with a peircing glanse. Although pleasant after ten A.M. he is not realy paternal in the early morning, and when Mademoiselle was still with us was quite hateful to her at times, asking her to be good enough not to jabber French at him untill evening when he felt stronger.
“Whose Wedding?” he said.
“Well,” I said. “You’ve got to Daughters and we might as well look ahead.”
“I intend to have to Daughters,” he said, “for some time to come. And while we’re on the subject, Bab, I’ve got somthing to say to you. Don’t let that romantic head of yours get filled up with Sweethearts, because you are still a little girl, with all your airs. If I find any boys mooning around here, I’ll—I’ll shoot them.”
Ye gods! How intracate my life was becoming! I engaged and my masculine parent convercing in this homacidal manner! I withdrew to my room and there, when Jane Raleigh came later, told her the terrable news.
“Only one thing is to be done, Jane,” I said, my voice shaking. “Tom must be warned.”
“Call him up,” said Jane, “and tell him to keep away.”
But this I dare not do.