“You know the way, Mr. Boardman,” said Eunice, going before him, while Minnie followed timorously, but curious for what he should say. She lingered on the threshold, while her sister went in and pulled the electric apparatus which lighted the gas-burners. “I suppose Dan didn't break it?” she said, turning sharply upon him. “No; and I don't think he was to blame,” said Boardman, inferring her reserved anxiety. “Oh, I'm quite sure of that,” said Eunice, rejecting what she had asked for. “You'll find everything, Mr. Boardman. It was kind of you to come with Dan. Supper's at seven.” “How severe you were with him!” murmured Minnie, following her away. “Severe with Dan?” “No--with Mr. Boardman.” “What nonsense! I had to be. I couldn't let him defend Dan to me. Couple of silly boys!” After a moment Minnie said, “I don't think he's silly.” “Who?” “Mr. Boardman.” “Well, Dan is, then, to bring him at such a time. But I suppose he felt that he couldn't get here without him. What a boy! Think of such a child being engaged! I hope we shan't hear any more of such nonsense for one while again--at least till Dan's got his growth.” They went down into the library, where, in their excitement, they sat down with most of their outdoor things on. Minnie had the soft contrary-mindedness of gentle natures. “I should like to know how you would have had Dan bear it,” she said rebelliously. “How? Like a man. Or like a woman. How do you suppose Miss Pasmer's bearing it? Do you suppose she's got some friend to help her?” “If she's broken it, she doesn't need any one,” urged Minnie. “Well,” said Eunice, with her high scorn of Dan unabated, “I never could have liked that girl, but I certainly begin to respect her. I think I could have got on with her--now that it's no use. I declare,” she broke off, “we're sitting here sweltering to death! What are we keeping our things on for?” She began to tear hers violently off and to fling them on chairs, scolding, and laughing at the same time with Minnie, at their absent-mindedness. A heavy step sounded on the verandah without. “There's father!” she cried vividly, jumping to her feet and running to the door, while Minnie, in a nervous bewilderment, ran off upstairs to her room. Eunice flung the door open. “Well, father, we've got Dan back again.” And at a look of quiet question in his eye she hurried on: “His engagement's broken, and he's come up here to tell us, and brought Mr. Boardman along to help.” “Where is he?” asked the father, with his ruminant quiet, pulling off first one sleeve of his overcoat, and pausing for Eunice's answer before he pulled off the other. XLVI. “He's up in his room, resting from the effort.” She laughed nervously, and her father made no comment. He took off his articles, and then went creaking upstairs to Dan's room. But at the door he paused, with his hand on the knob, and turned away to his own room without entering. Dan must have heard him; in a few minutes he came to him.