"He ordered me out of the house," said Kenneth, in a strangled voice.
For a moment Daphne's form stiffened. Then resolutely she put all thought from her but the one of comfort.
"Don't think of any of it now. Leave it until to-morrow. Come let's walk."
They strolled down the gentle slope and across the field. Daphne took his arm in both hers, pressing close to him. It was the dark of the moon, but the starlight filled the cup of heaven-like mist. From near at hand and far away came the singing of frogs, exultant and joyous, falling instantly silent or breaking instantly out full strength, as though some supreme and omnipresent frog-leader had waved a baton. In the abrupt swift silences an owl spoke solemnly. Things not of the night, the simple beautiful peaceful night, such as the strivings and passions of men, seemed to settle to earth, as a veil that is cast flutters and sinks slowly and lies dead. In spite of himself Kenneth's high-leaping thoughts little by little lost their throb. The fever ebbed from his brain. His mind cleared as the sky clears of clouds. From the surface of his soul, stilled after the tempest, again reflected the stars.
Daphne seemed to have been waiting for and to sense this moment.
"You must keep one thought before you always, Ken dear," she said, "and that is that you have done right. And you must remember that your father has not consciously done wrong, because he really cannot see it is wrong. Now let's talk of of plans. The hard part is over now; remember that. But we must make it a success yet. It won't do to let the whole fail just for a little scheming at the last minute."
"Why, what do you mean?" asked Kenneth, his attention caught.
"Practical details: that's what I mean. I don't know anything about your business arrangements: I suppose you've made them. I'm interested. Don't you want to tell me about them?"
"What arrangements do you mean?"
"Why, as I understand it, you've put in a lot of money, and
