“Well, I feel better. I confess this thing gave me something of a shock. But come round and see us before we go. We shall be leaving in an hour.”
The man at the fire promised to make the visit, and the other took his departure.
A few minutes later the youth reappeared.
“Is breakfast ready?” he cried. “My, but I'm hungry! But who is he, dad?”
“Sit down,” said his father, “and get your breakfast while it is hot.”
“But who is he, dad?” persisted the youth.
“Who is he?” said his father, dishing up the bacon. “An oil explorer, an artist, a capitalist, an American from Pittsburgh, the father of one child, a girl. Her mother is dead. Nineteen years old, athletic, modern type, college bred, 'boss of the show' (quotation). These are a few of the facts volunteered within the limited space of his visit.”
“What's he like, dad?”
“Like? Like an American.”
“Now, dad, don't allow your old British prejudices to run away with your judgment.”