"For heaven's sake tell me what it is that enables that fellow to annoy you?" said Glynn earnestly; "you said you would tell me."
"I never liked him, but latterly I perceive that he has some curious influence over my father, who has even asked me to be civil to him. Perhaps I ought not to tell you this, but my father trusts you, and I—I believe you are loyal. I am still uneasy about my father. He is so restless, and I imagine he is always more restless when he has been with Mr. Vincent. I sometimes think that my father has had a hard, sad life, though he tries to forget his troubles, and I want to make up to him for the past. He loves me so much that I must do everything for him, and be with him always."
"The young cannot always promise for their future, and he would be happiest, knowing you were happy."
"But I should not; he deserves all I can do, and it would hurt me, oh! cruelly, to think he ever wanted anything when I was not there to give it to him." The sweet, soft lips quivered with feeling as she spoke.
"This is a heart worth winning," thought Glynn, as he gazed on her pensive, downcast face.
"I wish he would tell you something about Mr. Vincent before you go," continued Elsie. "I feel oppressed with a sense of indefinable mischief."
"Before I go!" repeated Glynn. "How do you know I am going?"
"I heard my father say you were going, and of course you will not stay in Paris."
"I cannot tear myself from it," said Glynn with passionate emphasis.
"Why?" asked Elsie, looking up surprised, then meeting his gaze, a vivid blush passed over her cheek, fading away quickly.