“Here’s an idea!” cried Grace, springing after him to hold his overcoat, “the next time Mr. Trenton comes to town I’ll try to have you meet him.”
“I think some of us ought to meet him,” said Mrs. Durland, who had begun to clear the table.
“By all means,” Ethel affirmed. “I think the family dignity calls for at least that!”
“Yes, we must preserve the family dignity at any hazard,” Grace retorted.
Having buttoned her father into his coat she snatched his hat and planted it at a rakish angle on his head. He submitted good-naturedly, pleased as he always was by her attentions.
“You bring Trenton down sometime, Grace. I’ve some old junk I’d be glad to show him,” he said, glancing furtively at his wife.
“Grand! Between us we ought to be able to put something over on him.”
She flung her arm across his shoulder and walked with him to the front door.
No highly developed talent for mind reading was necessary to an understanding of the mental operations of Mrs. Durland and Ethel in matters pertaining to the father and younger daughter. When Grace entered the kitchen she knew that she had interrupted a conference bearing upon her acquaintance with Trenton. Her mother and Ethel would study the matter in all its aspects. She derived a cynical satisfaction from the knowledge that her apparent frankness was probably causing them more anxiety than an evasion or a downright lie.