"Why--why, you said you were on a honeymoon--down South!" frowned Daphne. "So I did!" laughed the Intruding Lady. "And so I was! But I never said it was _my_ honeymoon!" "Old-Dad--thought it was your honeymoon!" accused Daphne. "Yes--I meant him to!" laughed the Intruding Lady. "Just for a little while I meant him to! . . . We'd had such a quarrel--ever since the winter before! Love at first sight it seemed to be!--and quarrel at first sight too!" "Oh, dear me--dear me," worried Daphne. "The more I hear about this 'Love' the more [237] complicated it seems. There's even more study to it--I believe--than going to college." "Oh, a great deal more study to it than going to college!" attested the Intruding Lady. "But _whose_ honeymoon--was it?" persisted Daphne. "Why, it was the honeymoon," mused the Intruding Lady, "of a very silly little chorus girl and an unduly wise New York magnate. He was very much pleased with everything about her, it seemed, except her Grammar--so I was brought along to mend the Grammar. Now wasn't that a perfectly idiotic thing to do?" she turned quite unblushingly to ask Old-Dad. "Where there are so many perfectly beautiful things to learn on a honeymoon to waste any time learning Grammar? Oh, of course, I know perfectly well"--she re-turned a bit quickly to Daphne--"that it was very wrong indeed of me to run away from them--that it caused the old magnate, at least, a considerable amount of anxiety. Only, of course, I never dreamed for a moment," she acknowledged, "that the yacht would go off without me! I merely [238] thought," she blushed, "I merely heard," she blushed, "that that was Jaffrey Bretton's Island." "And you found him with me!" giggled Daphne, "all cuddled up in the sand." "Yes," blushed the Intruding Lady. With the cloud still on her brow Daphne studied the Intruding Lady's face with an entirely brand-new interest. "But, how ever in the world," she demanded, "could anybody quarrel with my father?" As though wanting to give full consideration to the question, the Intruding Lady glanced back at her husband before she essayed to face Daphne again. "Why, really," she answered, "don't you suppose--that perhaps--it's because he's so tall?" "Hardly," said Daphne. "Well, then--maybe," mused the Intruding Lady, "it's because he's so--so funny?" "Not at all," said Daphne. "Well--just possibly--of course," smiled the Intruding Lady, "it's because I have red hair!" [239] "Now you're talking!" said Jaffrey Bretton. But no smile ruffled Daphne's gravity. "Were you a--a sort of a teacher?" she questioned. "Yes, a sort of a teacher," admitted the Intruding Lady. "Where?" asked Daphne. "Oh, on houseboats and yachts and things," smiled the Intruding Lady. "Just a sort of traveling teacher. That's why I didn't quite understand your father at first--I suppose," she acknowledged. "Our lives were so far apart." "Do you think you understand me?" whispered Daphne.