“I remember your mother and I knew your father,” said dad, when Bob had presented him. “Your mother was very beautiful.” Gwendoline thanked him, while Bob gazed upon her with adoring eyes. “Isn’t she wonderful, dad?” he said. “Wonderful, indeed,” said dad fondly, a little sadly. Perhaps he was thinking of the time when his own bride had stood right there, in the home he had bought for her. Perhaps he saw her eyes with the light of love in them—eyes long since closed. “I trust you will not think me trite if I say, God bless you,” murmured dad. “I won’t think you trite at all,” said Gwendoline Gerald, approaching nearer to dad. “I think it very nice.” “And would you think me trite if I—?” Dad’s meaning was apparent for Gwendoline’s golden head bent toward him and dad’s lips just brushed the fair brow. “I’m very glad. I think Bob will make a good husband. He will have to set himself a high mark though, to deserve you, my dear.” “That’s just what I keep telling her myself,” observed Bob. He experienced anew a touch of that chaotic feeling but didn’t give way to it on account of dad’s being there. “Don’t set the mark too high, or you may leave me far behind,” laughed Gwendoline Gerald. “By the way I’ve asked Dolly to be first bridesmaid and she has consented. Said she supposed that was the ‘next best thing,’ though I can’t imagine what she meant.” “That’s jolly,” said Bob. He thrilled at these little delicious details of the approaching event. “But I suppose we should be going now.” “Is it the opera?” asked dad. Bob answered that it was. “She insisted on coming for me in her car,” he laughed. “Would have had one myself now if I had imagined anything like this. It was rather sudden, you know.” “It looks as if I made him do it,” said the girl with a laugh. “I went right to his office, and that, after his refusing me once, when I proposed to him.” “Did you do that, Bob?” “Well, I didn’t believe she meant it. Did you?” To Miss Gerald. “That’s telling,” said Gwendoline, and looked so inviting in that wonderful opera costume, so white and tall and alluring, so many other things calculated to fire a young man’s soul, that Bob had difficulty not to resort to extreme masculine measures to make her tell. “Hope you have a pleasant evening,” observed dad politely as they went out together, a couple the neighbors might well find excuse to stare at. “Oh, I guess we’ll manage to pull through,” said Bob. Their first evening out all alone by themselves in great, big gay New York! It was nice and shadowy, too, in the big limousine where the dim light spiritualized the girl’s beauty. “Tell now,” he urged, “what I asked you in there?” “Did I mean it?” Her starry eyes met his. “Perhaps a little bit. But I’m glad you didn’t accept. I’m glad it came out the other way,” she laughed.