ment, then Crispin said, "How wonderful that she could keep it to herself like that!"
"It changes everything, doesn't it?"
"In what way?"
"To know that I have a father."
He broke out fiercely, "Don't say it as if it were something to be proud of."
Her startled eyes met his. "Isn't it?"
"No. A man like that. To break your mother's heart."
"But you see what she says. He couldn't help it."
"He wasn't true to either of them. He should have found out before he married your mother which one he wanted."
She turned this over in her mind. At last she said, "Still, he's my father."
"And, of course, you'll go?"
"Yes."
"Suppose he doesn't want you?"
"I am not going to find out whether he wants me, but whether I want him."
"Why go at all? Why not stay here and marry me, Hildegarde?"
"Oh," she turned toward him started, "but I'm not in love with you."
He was eager. "You don't know whether you are or not. You don't know anything about it? But I could teach you." He took her hand, drawing her toward him.
She drew back. "Please—" Then, after a little: "Crispin, I must go to my father. Mother wanted it."
