The day following Amy's adventure with her drunken escort, and her rescue by Dick Falkner, Frank Goodrich had a long interview with his father, which resulted in Adam's calling his daughter into his library that evening. Without any preface whatever, he began, in an angry tone: "I understand, Miss, that you have disobeyed my express commands in regard to that tramp printer, and that you have been with him again; and that too, late at night. Now I have simply to tell you that you must choose between him and your home. I will _not_ have a child of mine keeping such company. You must either give him up or go." "But father, you do not know the circumstances or you would not talk so." "No circumstances can excuse your conduct; I know you were with him and that is enough." "Indeed I have not disobeyed you; father, you do not understand; I was in Mr. Falkner's company only by accident, and--" "Stop. Don't add a falsehood to your conduct. I understand quite enough. Your own brother saw you bidding him an affectionate good-night at one o'clock, on my doorstep. Such things do not happen by accident. I wonder that you dare look me in the face after roaming the streets at that time of night with such a disreputable character." "Father, I tell you you are mistaken. Won't you please let me explain?" said Amy, almost in tears. But the angry man only replied, "No explanation can be made. Frank saw you himself and that's enough; no excuse can justify such conduct. I have only to repeat that I will not own you as my daughter if you persist in keeping such company." Amy tried again to speak, but he interrupted her. "Silence, I don't want to hear a word from you. Go to your room." Then the woman asserted herself and there were no tears this time, as she said respectfully, but firmly, "Father, you _shall_ hear me. I am not guilty of that of which you accuse me. I was in other company, company of your own choosing, and to save myself from insult I was forced to appeal to Mr. Falkner, who brought me safely home. He is far more a gentleman than the men I was with, even though they are welcome at this home; and he is not. I--" Adam turned fairly green with rage. "You ungrateful, disobedient girl. How dare you say that this miserable vagabond is a fit associate for you, and more worthy than the guests of my house? You must not think you can deceive me and clear yourself by any trumped-up lie of his teaching. You may have your tramp, but don't call me father. You are no daughter of mine." And he left the room. It is astonishing how little the proud man knew of the real nature of his child; a nature which rightfully understood and influenced, was capable of any sacrifice, any hardship, for the one she loved; but misunderstood or falsely condemned, was just as capable of reckless folly or despair. A nature that would never prove false to a trust, but if unjustly suspected, would turn to the very thing of which it stood accused.