"Then, papa, add that one word about letters, will you?"
"And if it is all undeserved?"
"It is not, papa."
Papa set his teeth for a moment, with a look which, however, wonted perhaps in his youthful days, I had very rarely seen called up in him. It passed then, and he wrote the brief word I had asked for, of addition to his letter, and gave it to me; and then took me in his arms and kissed me again.
"You are not very wise in the world, my Daisy," he said; "and men would say I am not. But I cannot deny you. Guard your letter to Miss Cardigan. And for the present all this matter shall sleep in our own bosoms."
"Papa," I asked, "how much did mamma know - I mean - how much did she hear about me that was true?"
"It was reported that you had been engaged."
"She heard that."
"Yes."
"She has never spoken about it."