"Derry Drake, Daddy, and may I bring him home to dinner?"
"Do you think a man like that goes begging for invitations? He has probably been asked to a dozen places to eat his turkey."
"He can't eat it at a dozen places, Daddy. And anyhow I should like to ask him. I—I think he is lonely—"
"A man with millions is never lonely."
She did not attempt to argue. She felt that her father could not possibly grasp the truth about Derry Drake. Her own understanding of his need had been a blinding, whirling revelation. He had said, "I wanted some one—who cared—." Not for a moment since then had the world been real to her. She had seemed in the center of a golden-lighted sphere, where Derry's voice spoke to her, where Derry's smile warmed her, where Derry, a silver-crested knight, knelt at her feet.
Julia came in to say that Miss Jean was wanted at the telephone.
Miraculously Derry's voice came over the wire. Was she going to the dance at the Willard? The one for the benefit of the Eye and Ear Hospital? The President and his wife would be there—the only ball they had attended this season—everybody would be there. Could he come for Jean and her father? And he'd bring Drusilla and Marion Gray. She knew Drusilla?
Jean on tiptoe. Oh, yes. But she was not sure about her father.
"But you—you—?"
"I'll ask."