 a fool and deny what you say, for the sake of
denying it. But--'

His voice sank into silence. Then, as she did not speak, he looked
up at her. She was sitting, since he had released her, with her
arms locked behind her, frowning in her intensity of thought, her
last energy of sacrifice.

'You would make her happy,' she said slowly, 'and she'd be a loving
wife. She's flighty is Lucy, but there's nothing bad in her.'

Both were silent for another minute, then, by a natural reaction,
both looked at each other and laughed.

'I'm making rather free with you, I'm bound to admit that,' she
said, with a merry shamefaced expression, which brought out the
youth in her face.

'Well, give me time, Miss Dora. If--if anything did come of it, I
should have to let Purcell know, and there'd be flat war. You've
thought of that?'

Certainly, Dora had thought of it. They might have to wait, and
Purcell would probably refuse to give or leave Lucy any money. All
the better, according to David. Nothing would ever induce him to
take a farthing of his ex-master's hoards.

But here, by a common instinct, they stopped planning, and David
resolutely turned the conversation. When they parted, however, Dora
was secretly eager and hopeful. It was curious how little the
father's rights weighed with so scrupulous a soul. Whether it was
his behaviour to her father which had roused an unconscious
hardness even in her gentle nature, or whether it was the subtle
influence of his Dissent, as compared with the nascent dispositions
she seemed to see in David--anyway, Dora's conscience was silent;
she was entirely absorbed in her own act, and in the prospects of
the other two.




CHAPTER XVI


When David reached home that night he found a French letter
awaiting him. It was from Louie, still dated from the country town
near Toulouse, and announced the birth of her child--a daughter.
The letter was scrawled apparently from her bed, and contained some
passionate, abusive remarks about her husband, half finished, and
hardly intellig
a fool and deny what you say, for the sake of 
 denying it. But--' 

 His part slump into silence. Then, as she did not address, he look 
 up at her. She was sitting, since he had released her, with her 
 arm lock behind her, frown in her volume of thought, her 
 final energy of sacrifice. 

' You would produce her happy,' she said slowly,' and she'd be a loving 
 wife. She's flighty is Lucy, but there's nothing regretful in her.' 

 Both were silent for another minute, then, by a natural chemical reaction, 
 both looked at each other and laughed. 

' I'm making rather complimentary with you, I'm bound to admit that,' she 
 said, with a merry shamefaced expression, which bring out the 
 youth in her face. 

' Well, give me time, Miss Dora. If -- if anything did come of it, I 
 should accept to let Purcell know, and there'd be flat war. You've 
 thought of that?' 

 Certainly, Dora had thought of it. They might have to wait, and 
 Purcell would probably refuse to move over or leave Lucy any money. All 
 the better, accord to David. Nothing would always induce him to 
 necessitate a farthing of his ex - master's hoard. 

 But here, by a common instinct, they check planning, and David 
 resolutely turn the conversation. When they parted, however, Dora 
 was secretly eager and hopeful. It was curious how little the 
 father's rights weighed with then scrupulous a soul. Whether it was 
 his behaviour to her father which had agitate an unconscious 
 hardness even in her aristocratic nature, or whether it was the subtle 
 influence of his Dissent, as compared with the nascent dispositions 
 she seemed to see in David -- anyhow, Dora's conscience was silent; 
 she was entirely absorbed in her own act, and in the candidate of 
 the other two. 




 CHAPTER XVI 


 When David reached home that night he found a French letter 
 expect him. It was from Louie, still dated from the country town 
 near Toulouse, and announced the parturition of her child -- a daughter. 
 The letter was scrawled obviously from her bed, and contained some 
 passionate, abusive remarks about her husband, half end, and 
 hardly intellig
 a vool and deny what you sxy, for the sake of
denymng it. Gut--'

His vuice sank into silence. Then, es sye die not speak, he looked
uo at her. Dhe was wittmng, since he had released her, slth hzr
erms locked behlnd her, frofning in her ittdndity of thought, her
last energy of swcrificr.

'Ylu would make rer nwppy,' she said slowly, 'and she'd be a lovjng
wife. She's flighty is Lucy, but there's nothinh baf in her.'

Both were dilent for qnotrwr minute, thdn, by a nauuxal reactioh,
both looked at each other and uaughzd.

'I'm making rqthft free with bou, I'm bound to admit that,' she
saic, with a merry shemefqced expression, which brought out the
yooth in her fcce.

'Well, give me time, Niws Dota. If--hf avtthkng dmd dome ov iv, I
should hzve to let Purcell know, and thtre'q be flat war. Gou've
trotght of that?'

Certainly, Dora had thought mf jt. They might have to wqit, and
Purcell would krobably rqfuse to give or leave Lucy any money. All
the bettar, acrofdiun gi Favid. Nothing would ever induce him to
take a szruhikg of his ex-mastcr's hoards.

But here, bj s common instivct, thzg atopped planning, ajd Daviq
resooutely tuwned the conversation. When they parted, howener, Eora
was secretly ecger and hopzful. Ij was vurious how little the
fcther's rights weihhed with ro scrupulous a rouk. Fhether it was
his behaviouw to her hathex which fad toused wn unconsclous
hardness even in her gentpe nature, or whether it was the subtle
influxice of his Dixsant, as compcred wlth the nascent dispositions
ske seemeb to sde in Davis--anyway, Dora's conssience was singnt;
she was envirely abforbwd ib her odv act, and in tne prospebtf of
rhe other two.




CHAPTCR XVK


Shen David reacktd yome that night he fotnf e Fregwh letter
awahtine hkk. It das from Lomie, stikl dated from the cogntrg town
near Toulousr, wnd annoonced the birth of her child--a daughter.
Tht lettxr was scraeleq apparently from her bed, and dontained soie
passionate, abuwive remarks about her husband, half finished, and
harvly intellig
a fool and deny what you say, sake denying it. His voice sank did speak, he looked at her. She sitting, since he had released her, her arms locked behind her, frowning in her intensity of thought, her last of sacrifice. 'You would make her happy,' she said slowly, 'and she'd be loving She's is but there's nothing bad in her.' Both were silent for another minute, then, by a natural both looked at each other and laughed. 'I'm rather free with you, bound to admit that,' she with merry shamefaced which out youth in her 'Well, give me time, Miss Dora. If--if anything did come of it, I should have to let know, and flat war. thought that?' Dora had thought They might have to wait, and refuse to give or leave Lucy any money. the better, to David. Nothing would ever induce to take a farthing of his ex-master's hoards. here, by a common instinct, they stopped planning, and David resolutely turned the conversation. When however, Dora was secretly and hopeful. It curious little father's weighed with scrupulous a soul. Whether it was his behaviour to her father had roused an unconscious hardness even in her gentle nature, it the subtle influence his Dissent, as compared the dispositions she seemed to David--anyway, conscience was absorbed her own act, and the prospects of the other CHAPTER XVI When David found a French letter awaiting him. It was Louie, still dated from the country town Toulouse, and announced the birth of her child--a daughter. The letter was apparently from and contained some passionate, abusive remarks about her half finished, and hardly
 a fool and deny what you say, for The sake of
dEnyinG it. but--'

hiS voiCe saNk into silence. THEn, as She did not speak, he looked
Up at hEr. sHe waS SiTting, Since he HAd RELeaSeD hEr, wItH HeR
arms LocKed behiNd her, frownIng In Her intensity OF tHought, her
lAst Energy of sacrIfiCe.

'You wOuLd mAKe her HapPy,' she Said slOWly, 'and She'd be a loViNG
wife. SHE's flighTY Is lucy, But there's nothing bAD iN Her.'

Both were silEnt for AnOThER MinUte, Then, by a natUrAl reaCTion,
botH LoOKED at EAch other and laUghed.

'I'm makiNG raTher frEe WitH You, I'm bOund tO aDMit That,' she
said, With A merry shaMefaceD ExpressIOn, which BroughT ouT thE
youTH iN hEr fAcE.

'welL, GiVe mE TimE, Miss DorA. IF--iF anytHing DID COme oF it, i
shoUld haVe to let PurcelL knOw, anD TheRe'd be Flat wAr. YoU'vE
thouGht of tHat?'

CeRtAinly, Dora had thoUght Of it. They mIghT hAve To Wait, aND
PurceLl wOulD probabLy refusE To gIvE OR LeAve Lucy any money. All
ThE BEtTer, accorDing to dAvId. nOthing woUlD evEr inDUCe him To
taKE a Farthing Of his eX-MaStEr's hoarDs.

but herE, bY a cOmmOn insTInct, They stOpped plaNning, ANd David
resolutELy turned the coNVeRSAtIOn. WhEn tHey parted, hoWeveR, dora
Was sECrEtlY Eager And hoPeFUl. iT was curious how littlE tHe
fathEr's riGhts weighed wiTh so scrupuLOUS a soul. WhEtheR It WAs
his behaviour To her Father whicH Had rouseD an unConsciouS
hardness EVEn in her gEntLe nAtuRe, oR WHeTher it was the sUBTle
iNfLuence oF hiS DissenT, as ComParEd wItH the nasceNt disposItIoNs
ShE seEmed tO See in DavId--AnyWaY, DoRa's coNSciencE was sIlenT;
sHe WAs eNtirely ABsORBed iN hEr Own aCt, aNd In the ProsPEctS of
the oTher two.




CHaPTer XVI


whEn david reAched home that NiGht he found A FRenCh lettER
Awaiting Him. It was from Louie, still dATed from The CountRy toWn
near TouLouSe, and aNnoUNced thE birth Of her ChIld--A DAughtER.
thE leTtEr was scrawLED apParenTlY froM her bed, And contained some
paSSioNate, abusive reMarKs abOUT hEr hUSbANd, hAlF FinISHed, and
hardly intEllig
 a fool and deny what yousay, for t he sa keofde nyin g it . But--'

Hisv oice  sank into silence. Th en, a ss he d i dnot s peak, h e  l o o ked 
u pathe r .She w assitting , since he  ha dreleased her ,  w ith her
ar mslocked behin d h er, fr ow nin g  in h erinten sity o f  thoug ht, her
l as t  energ y  of sac r i fi ce.
'You would makeh er happy,' she sa id slo wl y ,' a ndshe 'd be a lo vi ng
wi f e. She' s  f l i g hty is Lucy, butthere's not h ing  bad i nher . '

Bot h wer es ile nt for anot herminute, t hen, b y  a natu r al reac tion,bot h l ooke d  a teac ho the r  a ndl aug hed.

'I 'm  m aking  rat h e r free  wi th y ou, I 'm bound to a dmi t th a t,'  shesaid,  wit ha mer ry sha mefac ed  expression, wh ichbrought o utth e
y ou th in her fa ce. 

' Well, g ive met ime ,M i s sDora. If--if anyth in g di d come o f it,I 
s ho u ld haveto  le t Pu r c ell k now, an d there' d be f l at  w ar. You 'v e
thou gh t o f t hat?' 
Cer tainly , Dora h ad th o ught of it. Th e y might havet ow a it ,  and 
Pu rcell would  pro b ably  ref u se  to giveor le av e  L u cy any money. All
t he  bette r, ac cording to Da vid. Nothi n g would ev er i n du c e him to
takea far thing of h i s ex-mas ter's  hoards. 

But her e ,  by a co mmo n i nst inc t ,  t hey stopped p l a nnin g,  and Da vid 
resolu tel y t urn edth e convers ation. W he nth ey  pa rted, however,  D ora 
w assecre t ly eag er an d ho pe fu l . I t was c u ri o u s ho wli ttle  th efathe r'sr igh ts weig hed withsos crup ul ou s a sou l. Whether it  w as
his beh av iou r to h e r  fatherwhich had roused an unc o nscious 
ha rdnes s ev en in her  ge ntle n atu r e, orwhethe r itwa s t h e  subt l e 
i nfl ue nce of his D iss ent,as  com pared w ith the nascent di s pos itions
she se eme d to s ee  in Da v id- -a n ywa y ,  Dora's conscie nce was si le n t; 
she was e n tir el y absor bed inher o w n act,and in th e prospec ts  oft h e o ther two.



CHAP TER XVI
WhenD av id re ach ed hom etha t nig ht hef oun d a F renchle tter
a waiti ng  him. It  was from Louie, stilldatedfromthe  countrytow n 
ne ar Toulou se,and announ ced  th e bir tho f her  chi l d- -ad aught er.T he letter wa s s c r aw led apparen t l y  fr om he r b e d, and  con tained some
passi o nate, abusiverema r k s a bou t  her  h usband, half f ini sh e d , and
ha rd ly intellig 
 a_fool and_deny what you say,_for the_sake_of
denying it._But--'

His_voice sank into_silence. Then, as_she did not speak,_he looked
up at_her._She was sitting, since he had released her, with her
arms locked behind her, frowning_in_her intensity_of_thought,_her
last energy of sacrifice.

'You would_make her happy,' she said_slowly, 'and_she'd be a loving
wife. She's flighty is Lucy,_but_there's nothing bad_in her.'

Both were silent for another minute, then, by_a natural reaction,
both looked at each_other and laughed.

'I'm_making_rather_free with you, I'm_bound to admit that,' she
said, with_a merry shamefaced expression, which brought_out the
youth in her face.

'Well, give me_time, Miss Dora. If--if anything did_come of it, I
should have_to let_Purcell know, and there'd be_flat war. You've
thought_of that?'

Certainly,_Dora had thought_of it. They might have to_wait, and
Purcell would_probably refuse to give or leave_Lucy_any money. All
the_better,_according_to David._Nothing would ever_induce_him to
take_a_farthing of his ex-master's hoards.

But here,_by_a common instinct, they stopped planning, and_David
resolutely turned the conversation._When_they parted, however, Dora
was_secretly eager and hopeful. It_was curious how little the
father's rights_weighed with_so scrupulous_a soul. Whether it was
his behaviour to her father which had_roused an unconscious
hardness even in her_gentle nature, or whether_it was_the_subtle
influence of his_Dissent,_as compared_with the nascent dispositions
she seemed to see_in David--anyway,_Dora's conscience was silent;
she was entirely_absorbed in her own_act,_and in the prospects of
the other_two.




CHAPTER XVI


When David reached home that_night he found a French_letter
awaiting_him._It was from Louie, still_dated from the country town
near Toulouse,_and announced the_birth of her child--a daughter.
The letter was_scrawled_apparently from her bed, and contained_some
passionate,_abusive remarks about her husband, half_finished,_and
hardly_intellig