“She’s working in a family,” returned his wife in a pleading tone. “She’s doing so well now. She had no place to go. Let her alone.”
Gerhardt had received a light since he had been away. Certain inexplicable thoughts and feelings had come to him in his religious meditations. In his prayers he had admitted to the All-seeing that he might have done differently by his daughter. Yet he could not make up his mind how to treat her for the future. She had committed a great sin; it was impossible to get away from that.
When Jennie came home that night a meeting was unavoidable. Gerhardt saw her coming, and pretended to be deeply engaged in a newspaper. Mrs. Gerhardt, who had begged him not to ignore Jennie entirely, trembled for fear he would say or do something which would hurt her feelings.
“She is coming now,” she said, crossing to the door of the front room, where he was sitting; but Gerhardt refused to look up. “Speak to her, anyhow,” was her last appeal before the door opened; but he made no reply.
When Jennie came in her mother whispered, “He is in the front room.”
Jennie paled, put her thumb to her lip and stood irresolute, not knowing how to meet the situation.
“Has he seen?”
Jennie paused as she realized from her mother’s face and nod that Gerhardt knew of the child’s existence.
“Go ahead,” said Mrs. Gerhardt; “it’s all right. He won’t say anything.”
Jennie finally went to the door, and, seeing her father, his brow wrinkled as if in serious but not unkindly thought, she hesitated, but made her way forward.