“No; never mind. She’s busy and it really doesn’t matter.” He stared vacantly at the ceiling for a moment. “I guess that’s all fixed now,” he added musingly, apparently forgetting her.
She was anxious to be off to her room to read Billy’s note; but she lingered, curious as to what further he might have to say about Fanny.
“You like that woman, don’t you, Nan? You and she get on—you haven’t found any traces of ill-feeling toward you?”
His small gray eyes were bent upon her with an odd expression of mingled hostility and kindness.
“Of course I like her, papa; and I believe she likes me. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t like me!”
“No reason!” he caught her up contemptuously.
She knew that he was thinking of Billy. His face twitched as a wave of anger seized him.
“That man is a scoundrel!” he blurted. “If he hadn’t been he’d never have treated that woman as he did!”
“It doesn’t seem to worry her much!” she flashed back at him. “I don’t know a happier woman anywhere!”
She realized instantly that the remark was unfortunate. He pointed a shaking finger at her.