But the possible attitude of her father she had still to face. “No power on earth will persuade me we’re not two rather disreputable persons. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. Overcome by his affliction, Mr. ” “I thought I was old enough,” she gasped, between laughter and crying. During that period she has been a model of propriety. She would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy. He wouldn’t like it if people did it to him. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. He dug about in his mind for a term to fit her, and he came upon the word new. “What made you think” he said, abruptly, with the gleam of avidity in his face, “that love makes people happy?” “I know it must. God bless you, anyhow!" she added, with a spontaneity which surprised Sister Angelina into uttering an individual gasp.
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