"What a question!" said Hilary. "You're as bad as my daughter. She asked me the same thing."
"I wish I were no worse," said the old man.
"You speak of his children," said the Englishman. "Hasn't he a wife?"
"No. Two daughters. One an old maid, and the other a young girl, whom my daughter knew at school," Hilary answered.
"I saw the young lady at your house once," said Bellingham, in a certain way.
"Yes. She's been here a good deal, first and last."
"Rather a high-stepping young person, I thought," said Bellingham.
"She is a proud girl," Hilary admitted. "Rather imperious, in fact."
"Ah, what's the pride of a young girl?" said Corey. "Something that comes from her love and goes to it; no separable quality; nothing that's for herself."
"Well, I'm not sure of that," said Hilary. "In this case it seems to have served her own turn. It's enabled her simply and honestly to deny the fact that her father ever did anything wrong."