“There is nothing to forgive, dear,” she said simply. “And now, one more word, Frederic. You must accept this new condition of affairs in the right spirit. Your father has married again, after all these years. It is not likely that he has done so without deliberation. Therefore, it is reasonable to assume that he is bringing home with him a wife of whom he at least is proud, and that should weigh considerably in your summing up of the situation. She will be beautiful, accomplished, refined, and good, Frederic. Of that you may be sure. Let me implore you to withhold judgment until a later day.” “I do not object to the situation, Mrs Desmond,” said he, the angry light returning to his eyes, “so much as I resent the wording of that telegram. It is always just that way. He loses no chance to humiliate me. He----” “Hush! You are losing your temper again.” “Well, who wouldn't? And here's another thing, the very worst of all. How is this new condition going to affect you, Mrs Desmond?” She was silent for a moment. “Of course, I shan't stay on here, Frederic. I shall not be needed now. As soon as Mrs Brood is settled here I shall go.” “And you expect me to be cheerful and contented!” he cried bitterly. “You are a man, Frederic. It is for you to say yea and nay; women must say one or the other. A man may make his own bed, but he doesn't always have to lie in it.” “Sounds rather like Solomon,” he said ruefully. “I suppose you mean that if I'm not contented here I ought to get out and look for happiness elsewhere, reserving the right to come back if I fail?” “Something of the sort,” she said. “My father objects to my going into business or taking up a profession. I am dependent on him for everything. But why go into that? We've talked it over a thousand times. I don't understand, but perhaps you do. It's a dog's way of living.” “Your father is making a man of you.” “Oh, he is, eh?” with great scorn. “Yes. He will make you see some day that the kind of life you lead is not the kind you want. Your pride, your ambition will rebel. Then you will make something out of life for yourself.” “I don't think that is in his mind, if you'll pardon me. I sometimes believe he actually wants me to stay as I am, always a dependent. Why, how can he expect me to marry and----” He stopped short, his face paling. “Go on, please.” “Well, it looks to me as if he means to make it impossible for me to marry, Mrs Desmond. I've thought of it a good deal.” “And is it impossible?” “No. I shall marry Lydia, even though I have to dig in the streets for her. It isn't that, however. There's some other reason back of his attitude, but for the life of me I can't get at it.” “I wouldn't try to get at it, my dear,” she said. “Wait and see. Come, you must have your coffee. I am glad you came down early. The old gentlemen are at breakfast now. Come in.” He followed her dejectedly, a droop to his shoulders.