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she believed what she wished to believe. "You were quite right, father," said she. "I knew you couldn't do a bad thing--wouldn't deliberately strike at weak, helpless people. And now, it can be straightened out and the Dorns will be all the better for not having been tempted in the days when it might have ruined them." She had walked round where her father could see her, as she delivered herself of this speech so redolent of the fumes of collegiate smugness. He proceeded to examine her--with an expression of growing dissatisfaction. Said he fretfully: "You don't calculate to go out, looking like that?" "Out to the swellest blow-out of the year, popsy," said she. The big heavy looking head wobbled about uneasily. "You look too much like your old pappy's daughter," said he. "I can afford to," replied she. The head shook positively. "You ma wouldn't 'a liked it. She was mighty partic'lar how she dressed." Jane laughed gayly. "Why, when did you become a critic of women's dress?" cried she. "I always used to buy yer ma dresses and hats when I went to the city," said he. "And she looked as good as the best--not for these days, but for them times." He looked critically at the portrait. "I bought them clothes and awful dear they seemed to me." His glance returned to his daughter. "Go get yourself up proper," said he, between request and command. "SHE wouldn't 'a liked it." Jane gazed at the common old crayon, suddenly flung her arms round the old man's neck. "Yes--father," she murmured. "To please HER." She fled; the old man wiped his eyes, blew his nose and resumed the careful smoking of the cheap, smelly cigar. He said he preferred that brand of his days of poverty; and it was probably true, as he would refuse better cigars offered him by fastidious men who hoped to save themselves from the horrors of his. He waited restlessly, though it was long past his bedtime; he yawned and pretended to listen while Davy Hull, who had called for Jane in the Hull brougham, tried to make a favorable impression upon him. At last Jane reappeared--and certainly Letitia Hastings would have been more than satisfied. "Sorry to keep you waiting," said she to Hull, who was speechless and tremulous before her voluptuous radiance. "But father didn't like the way I was rigged out. Maybe I'll have to change again." "Take her along, Davy," said Hastings, his big head wagging with delight. "She's a caution
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