her escape complications. He was reasonable enough, too, to
understand that a father is not always the best confidant, and he had
supreme confidence in Jenny's common sense.

I suppose he had his dreams; he would scarcely have been human if he had
not, and he was quite human. The throwing over of Frank had brought him
mixed emotions, but he had not been consulted either at the beginning or
the end of the engagement, and he acquiesced. Of Dick's affair he knew
nothing at all.

That, then, was the situation when the bomb exploded. It exploded in
this way.

He was sitting in his study one morning--to be accurate, it was the
first Saturday in November, two days after the events of the last
chapter--preparing to begin the composition of his sermon for the next
day. They had dined up at the great house the night before quite quietly
with Lord Talgarth and Archie, who had just come back.

He had selected his text with great care from the Gospel for the day,
when the door suddenly opened and Jenny came in. This was very unusual
on Saturday morning; it was an understood thing that he must be at his
sermon; but his faint sense of annoyance was completely dispelled by his
daughter's face. She was quite pale--not exactly as if she had received
a shock, but as if she had made up her mind to something; there was no
sign of tremor in her face; on the contrary, she looked extremely
determined, but her eyes searched his as she stopped.

"I'm dreadfully sorry, father, but may I talk to you for a few minutes?"

She did not wait for his answer, but came straight in and sat down in
his easy-chair. He laid his pen down and turned a little at his
writing-table to face her.

"Certainly, dear. What is it? Nothing wrong?"

(He noticed she had a note in her hand.)

"No, nothing wrong...." She hesitated. "But it's rather important."

"Well?"

She glanced down at the note she carried. Then she looked up at him
again.

"Father, I suppose you've thought of my marrying some day--in spite of
Frank?"

"Eh?"

"Would you mind if I married a man older than myself--I mean a good deal
older?"

He looked at her in silence. Two or three names passed before his mind,
but he couldn't remember--

"Father, I'm in trouble. I really am. I didn't expect--"

Her voice faltered. He saw that she really found it difficult to speak.
A little wave of tenderness rolled over his heart. It was unlike her to
be so much moved. He got up and came round to