your father? He would help you so much, and you would get on so fast, and we should all be so proud of you!
But my father doesn't want me to go into his business. I've explained all that to you.
Alice gazed at him intently for a little while, as if weighing him and the consequences of what she was about to divulge. As she began to speak, her glance dropped to the fire.
I think it's only fair that you should know something, Harold, she said at last.
He searched her face with some alarm.
Nothing serious. She grasped his arm and rubbed her cheek affectionately against his cheek. He has done it for your good, dear. Your father has been deceiving you.
My father! He sprang away from her in amazement and stood, helplessly, a little apart, trying to find some kind of meaning in her words.
It was a sort of plot or plan, she went on in a somewhat pedantic manner, as though she had been rehearsing this speech for a long time. You see your father had the feeling that, as you had been brought up by women, you were innocent and ignorant of life. He was afraid if he took you right into his business that you might break away, be misled—Oh! I don't know what exactly. Anyway, you said you didn't want to go in with him, and he hoped you would eventually decide for yourself that you did want to. So—she tried to ap
