"You are wrong, daddy," she said, with a new note in her voice which all recognized instinctively. "For the first time in my life, I tell you, you are wrong."
"Leave this to me, Alice," Gorham repeated, sternly, but the girl did not heed him.
"Since I have been sitting here I have learned a lot, and I know that Allen is right. There are things which I have kept from you, and now I know that I should have told you all about them. Now I know that the advice I received was wrong—and it is all reacting upon Allen and upon you."
"Is there no way—" Gorham began, thoroughly exasperated.
"Be patient, Robert," begged Eleanor.
"Don't, Alice," Allen protested; "it's mighty white of you, but it only makes matters worse. I'm going now—"
"Not until I tell you that I've been unfair to you too," she cried. "I've made fun of you and been horrid to you, but I believe I've loved you all the time."
"Alice!" the boy exclaimed.
"You are forgetting your duty to Mr. Covington, as you have already forgotten your duty to me," her father expostulated, severely.
"She doesn't mean it, Mr. Gorham—please don't blame her; it's all my fault."