our father," said Mr. Dosson thoughtfully.

"Of course you can't."

"Well then please don't like any one. But perhaps _I_ should like him,"
he added, faithful to his easier philosophy.

"I guess you'd have to," said Delia.

In the small salle-a-manger, when Gaston went in, Francie was standing
by the empty table, and as soon as she saw him she began.

"You can't say I didn't tell you I should do something. I did nothing
else from the first--I mean but tell you. So you were warned again and
again. You knew what to expect."

"Ah don't say THAT again; if you knew how it acts on my nerves!" the
young man groaned. "You speak as if you had done it on purpose--to carry
out your absurd threat."

"Well, what does it matter when it's all over?"

"It's not all over. Would to God it were!"

The girl stared. "Don't you know what I sent for you to come in here
for? To bid you good-bye."

He held her an instant as if in unbelievable view, and then "Francie,
what on earth has got into you?" he broke out. "What deviltry, what
poison?" It would have been strange and sad to an observer, the
opposition of these young figures, so fresh, so candid, so meant for
confidence, but now standing apart and looking at each other in a wan
defiance that hardened their faces.

"Don't they despise me--don't they hate me? You do yourself! Certainly
you'll be glad for me to break off and spare you decisions and troubles
impossible to you."

"I don't understand; it's like some hideous dream!" Gaston Probert
cried. "You act as if you were doing something for a wager, and you make
it worse by your talk. I don't believe it--I don't believe a word of
it."

"What don't you believe?" she asked.

"That you told him--that you told him knowingly. If you'll take that
back (it's too monstrous!) if you'll deny it and give me your assurance
that you were practised upon and surprised, everything can still be
arranged."

"Do you want me to lie?" asked Francie Dosson. "I thought you'd like
pleasant words."

"Oh Francie, Francie!" moaned the wretched youth with tears in his eyes.

"What can be arranged? What do you mean by everything?" she went on.

"Why they'll accept it; they'll ask for nothing more. It's your
participation they can't forgive."

"THEY can't? Why do you talk to me of 'them'? I'm not engaged to
'them'!" she said with a shrill little laugh.

"Oh Francie _I_ am! And it's they who are buried beneath that filthy
rubbish!"

She flus