g, she breathlessly, even hopefully, awaited his answer.

But father ruthlessly squashed her hopes with two fell sentences and one
terrifying oath.

"I should say not! You say he's dissipated and then in the same breath
ask me--for God's sake!"

"Well, maybe, he isn't so dissipated, father," she began quaveringly,
regretting the indiscretion into which eloquence had enticed her.

"I don't care a whoop whether he is or not," said father heartlessly.
"What I want is for you to get it into your head, once for all, that
you're to have NOTHING to do with this fellow or any other boy!"

Father's voice, usually so kind, had the doomsday quality that even
mother used only on very rare occasions. It reverberated in the depths
of Missy's being. They walked the last block in unbroken silence. As
they passed through the gate, walked up the front path, shook the snow
off their wraps on the porch, and entered the cosy-lighted precincts of
home, Missy felt that she was the most wretched, lonely, misunderstood
being in the world.

She said her good nights quickly and got off upstairs to her room. As
she undressed she could hear the dim, faraway sound of her parents'
voices. The sound irritated her. They pretended to love her, but they
seemed to enjoy making things hard for her! Not only did they begrudge
her a good time and white fox furs and everything, but they wouldn't
let her try to be a good influence to the world! What was the use of
renouncing earthly vanities for yourself if you couldn't help others to
renounce them, too? Of course there was a certain pleasure, a kind of
calm, peaceful satisfaction, an ecstasy even, in letting the religious,
above-the-world feeling take possession of you. But it was selfish to
keep it all to yourself. It was your duty to pass it on, to do good
works--to throw out the life-line. And they begrudged her that--it
wasn't right. Were all parents as hard and cruel as hers?

She felt like crying; but, just then, she heard them coming up the
stairs. It would be difficult to explain her tears should one of them
look into her room on some pretext; so she jumped quickly into bed. And,
sure enough, she heard the door open. She shut her eyes. She heard her
mother's voice: "Are you asleep, dear?" Impossible to divine that under
that tender voice lay a stony heart! She emitted a little ghost of a
snore; she heard the door close again, very softly.

For a while she lay quiet but she felt so unlike sleep