ignored the scowl; so old Hector
flashed a warning glance to Jane and her mother--a glance that said
quite plainly: "Let there be no upbraiding of my son."

"Do you think it is quite--ah, delicate of you, Donald, to call upon
any young lady at her apartments in the absence of a proper chaperon,
even if the lady herself appears to have singularly free and easy
views on the propriety of receiving you thus?"

He saw that she was bound to force the issue and was rather relieved
than otherwise. With a mental promise to himself to keep his temper at
all hazards he replied: "Well, Elizabeth, I'll admit the situation is
a trifle awkward, but what cannot be cured must be endured. You see, I
want to have a talk with Nan Brent and I cannot do so unless I call
upon her at the Sawdust Pile. It is impossible for us to meet on
neutral ground, I fear. However, if you will write her a nice
friendly little note and invite her up here to visit me, the question
of a chaperon will be solved and I will postpone my visit until she
gets here."

"Don't be a fool," she retorted bitterly.

"As for Nan's free and easy views on the subjects, who in Port Agnew,
may I ask, expects her to act differently? Why, therefore, since she
is fully convinced that I possess a few of the outward appearances of
a gentleman, should she fear to receive me in her home? To conform to
the social standards of those who decry her virtue? Elizabeth, you
expect too much, I fear."

"Hear, hear," cried The Laird. He realized that Elizabeth was not to
be denied, so he thought best to assume a jocular attitude during the
discussion.

"Father," his eldest daughter reminded him. "It is your duty to forbid
Donald doing anything which is certain to bring his family into
disrepute and make it the target for the tongue of scandal."

"Oh, leave him alone, you pestiferous woman," old Hector cried
sharply. "Had it not been for the girl he would not be living this
minute, so the least he can do is to express his compliments to her.
Also, since this disagreeable topic has again been aired, let me
remind you that the lass isn't going to marry Donald. She came out
here, Donald," he continued, turning to his son, "with the distinct
understanding that her job was to humor you back to health, and for
that you owe her your thanks and I'm willing you should call on her
and express them. Don't flattter yourself that she'll marry you, my
boy. I've had a talk with her--since you must kn