Mr. Prohack as it were shook his crest in plenary contentment. He had the same sensation of creativeness as he had had a while earlier with his son,--a godlike sensation. And he was delighted with his girl. She was so young and so old. And her efforts to play the woman of the world with him were so comic and so touching. Only two or three years since she had been driving a motor-van in order to defeat the Germans. She had received twenty-eight shillings a week for six days of from twelve to fourteen hours. She would leave the house at eight and come back at eight, nine, or ten. And on her return, pale enough, she would laugh and say she had had her dinner and would go to bed. But she had not had her dinner. She was simply too tired and nervously exasperated to eat. And she would lie in bed and tremble and cry quietly from fatigue. She did not know that her parents knew these details. The cook, her confidante, had told them, much later. And Mr. Prohack had decreed that Sissie must never know that they knew. She had stuck to the task during a whole winter, skidding on glassy asphalt, slimy wood, and slithery stone-setts in the East End, and had met with but one accident, a minor affair. The experience seemed to have had no permanent effect on her, but it had had a permanent effect on her father's attitude towards her,--her mother had always strongly objected to what she called the "episode," had shown only relief when it concluded, and had awarded no merit for it. "Can you definitely promise me fifty pounds, dad?" Sissie asked quietly. Mr. Prohack made no articulate answer. His reply was to take out his cheque-book and his fountain-pen and fill in a cheque to _Miss Sissie Prohack or order_. He saw no just reason for differentiating between the sexes in his offspring. He had given a cheque to Charlie; he gave one to Sissie. "Then you aren't absolutely stone-broke," said Sissie, smiling. "I should not so describe myself." "It's just like mother," she murmured, the smile fading. Mr. Prohack raised a sternly deprecating hand. "Enough." "But don't you want to know what I want the money for?" Sissie demanded. "No!... Ha-ha!" "Then I shall tell you. The fact is I must tell you." * * * * * III "I've decided to teach dancing," said Sissie, beginning again nervously, as her father kept a notable silence. "I thought you weren't so very keen on dancing." "I'm not; but perhaps that's because I don't care much for the new fashion of dancing a whole evening with the same man. Still the point is that I'm a very fine dancer. Even Charlie will tell you that." "But I thought that all the principal streets in London were full of dancing academies at the present time, chiefly for the instruction of aged gentlemen."