As they sat opposite each other and she was making the coffee, the door to the room opened and her father came in smiling, seemingly happy over the new nest Peter had provided for his daughter.
Clarinda went over and kissed him. She helped him take off his coat and placed his cane in the corner, then she made a place for him at the table.
After he had sat down a desultory conversation began. They talked about the house and its arrangements, concerning the extent of the garden, the placing of the lake which Peter contemplated, the number of servants, and the effect the house made from the outside. Clarinda listened while she busied herself making the coffee, and the maid brought in the toast.
The men continued to speak of various stocks, the rise and fall in foreign exchange, the effect of the rise in the prices of steel, but Clarinda took no interest in these things.
Without warning she broke in upon their conversation.
“I—I—don’t believe in this place. It seems to me to be too large. I feel as if my happiness had gone out of the window.”
The men looked at her as if not hearing what she said. They waited for her to pass the coffee, and it was evident her father was pleased.
“I wish I were back,” she broke in again.
“Oh, Clarinda!” exclaimed Peter. “That’s the first mean remark I ever heard you make.”
“I mean it!” she replied slowly.