by events. If I were to tell you
that in my opinion Sissie's judgment of you as a future husband was
unsound, it would be equivalent to admitting that my education of Sissie
had been unsound. And I could not possibly admit such a thing. Moreover,
just as you are a man of the world, so Sissie is a woman of the world.
By heredity and by natural character she is sagacious, and she has
acquainted herself with all manner of things as to which I am entirely
ignorant. Nor can I remember any instance of her yielding, from genuine
conviction, to my judgment when it was opposed to hers. From all which
it follows, my dear Morfey, that your mission to me here this evening is
a somewhat illogical, futile, and unnecessary mission, and that the
missioner must be either singularly old-fashioned and conventional--or
laughing in his sleeve at me. No!" Mr. Prohack with a nineteenth century
wave of the hand deprecated Ozzie's interrupting protest. "No! There is
a third alternative, and I accept it. You desired to show me a courtesy.
I thank you."

"But have you no questions to ask me?" demanded Ozzie.

"Yes," said Mr. Prohack. "How did you first make the acquaintance of my
daughter?"

"Do you mean to say you don't know? Hasn't Sissie ever told you?"

"Never. What is more, she has never mentioned your name in any
conversation until somebody else had mentioned it. Such is the result of
my educational system, and the influence of the time-spirit."

"Well, I'm dashed!" exclaimed Ozzie sincerely.

"I hope not, Morfey. I hope not, if by dashed you mean 'damned.'"

"But it was the most wonderful meeting, Mr. Prohack," Ozzie burst out,
and he was in such an enthusiasm that he almost forgot to lisp. "You
knew I was in M.I. in the war, after my trench fever."

"M.I., that is to say, Secret Service."

"Yes. Secret Service if you like. Well, sir, I was doing some work in
the East End, in a certain foreign community, and I had to get away
quickly, and so I jumped into a motor-van that happened to be passing.
That van was driven by Sissie!"

"An example of fact imitating fiction!" remarked Mr. Prohack, seeking,
not with complete success, to keep out of his voice the emotion
engendered in him by Ozzie's too brief recital. "Now that's one
question, and you have answered it brilliantly. My second and last
question is this: Are you in love with Sissie--"

"Please, Mr. Prohack!" Ozzie half rose out of his chair.

"Or do you love her? The two th