When he was gone, there was a silence of a few seconds which Ferrol could not exactly account for. Almost for the first time in his manhood, he did not know what to say. Gradually there had settled upon him the conviction that something had gone very wrong indeed, that there was something mysterious and complicated at work, that somehow he himself was involved, and that his position was at once a most singular and delicate one. It was several moments before he could decide that his best plan seemed to be to try to conceal his bewilderment and appear at ease. And, very naturally, the speech he chose to begin with was the most unlucky he could have hit upon. "He is charming," he said. "What a lovable old fellow! What a delicious old fellow! He has been telling me about the novel. It is the story of a Frenchman, and his name--try to guess his name." But Louisiana did not try. "You couldn't guess it," he went on. "It is better than all the rest. His name was--Frankoyse." That instant she turned round. She was shaking all over like a leaf. "Good heavens!" flashed through his mind. "This is a climax! _This_ is the real creature!" "Don't laugh again!" she cried. "Don't dare to laugh! I wont bear it! He is my father!" For a second or so he had not the breath to speak. "Your father!" he said, when he found his voice. "_Your_ father! _Yours!_" "Yes," she answered, "mine. This is my home. I have lived here all my life--my name is Louisiana. You have laughed at me too!" It was the real creature, indeed, whom he saw. She burst into passionate tears. "Do you think that I kept up this pretense to-day because I was ashamed of him?" she said. "Do you think I did it because I did not love him--and respect him--and think him better than all the rest of the world? It was because I loved him so much that I did it--because I knew so well that you would say to each other that he was not like me--that he was rougher, and that it was a wonder I belonged to him. It is a wonder I belong to him! I am not worthy to kiss his shoes. I have been ashamed--I have been bad enough for that, but not bad enough to be ashamed of him. I thought at first it would be better to let you believe what you would--that it would soon be over, and we should never see each other again, but I did not think that I should have to sit by and see you laugh because he does not know the world as you do--because he has always lived his simple, good life in one simple, country place." Ferrol had grown as pale as she was herself. He groaned aloud. "Oh!" he cried, "what shall I say to you? For heaven's sake try to understand that it is not at him I have laughed, but----" "He has never been away from home," she broke in. "He has worked too hard to have time to read, and--" she stopped and dropped her hands with a gesture of unutterable pride. "Why should I tell you that?" she said. "It sounds as if I were apologizing for him, and there is no need that I should."