"Who does know?"
"Nobody, papa, but you, and an old friend of mine in New York, - an aunt of Mr. Thorold's."
"Daisy, what is this young man?"
"Papa, I wish you could know him."
"How comes it that he, as well as you, has kept silence?"
"I don't know, papa. His letter must have miscarried. He was going to write to you immediately, just before I left Washington. I was afraid to have him do it, but he insisted that he must."
"Why were you afraid?"
"Papa, I knew you and mamma would not be I pleased; that it would not be what you would wish; and I feared mamma, and perhaps you, would forbid him at once."
"Does he write to you?"
"I would not let him, papa, without your permission; and I was afraid I could not get that."