"Father, there is something I wish to tell you that interests me very deeply."
He removed the cigar, and looked at me inquiringly. I saw he did not suspect the truth.
"I am engaged to be married to Mr. Roger Dale. You must not be angry, father," I continued hastily. "You cannot help liking him when you know him better. He is worthy of me in every way."
I ventured to look at him; he was smoking with quick, nervous puffs that betokened great excitement.
"Bah!" he cried presently. "Bah! what a fool I have been! I might have known it would end in some such way as this. No girl ever had a better opportunity than you, and yet you are ready to sacrifice everything for the sake of a fellow who is no more fit to be your husband than the veriest beggar in the street. You have disappointed me terribly, Virginia. I believed you to be sensible and clever; but the admission you have just made proves you to be little short of a goose. Bah! you couldn't have chosen worse. A dissipated, mercenary good-for-nothing!"
"You must not speak in that way of Roger, father. I cannot sit here and let him be abused. Scold me as much as you please, but don't say anything against him. You do not understand him."
"Understand him, indeed! It is you who do not understand him. I never expected that a daughter of mine would fall in love with a barber's block."
This was too much for my endurance. "You are unjust," I cried with, flashing eyes. "It is too late to talk so. We love each other, and if my own father repulses me we must go elsewhere for a blessing."
I have an idea that I looked like a queen of tragedy as I stood and braved him thus, for he gazed at me with a sort of astonishment, and made a movement as if to deter me from leaving the room. Just then, as fortune willed, the door was thrown open, and the servant ushered in Roger Dale.
He looked from the one to the other of us, and his cheeks reddened.