He smiled grimly. "Natural _you_ should say that, but--" He expectorated with deliberation, glowering at me as he did it. "_No_, sir!" His head shook with decision. "Wouldn't do--I wouldn't think of trusting you with Francis," he finished shortly. "O!" Just a gasp, you know; and my jolly cheeks stung as from a dash of fiery what's-its-name sauce. So _he_ knew about the pajamas, too! I half rose from my chair. "I--I assure you, sir--" I began stiffly. His fussy shrug checked me. "No, no, we'll just have to wait till Jack gets up. The only thing _I'm_ anxious about is the scenery and the view points; and I just know if Francis went with you, you would never see any of it." By Jove, I thought that quite likely enough, but of course it was devilish personal of him to say so. And dash seeing the scenery and view points, anyway--who wanted to see _them_, if they could see _her_? I was just going to suggest this, when he went on: "The fact is--" He hesitated, then flicked his ashes with a sigh. "Oh, well, since I've said as much as I have, I should go further, I suppose. It's only fair not to leave you in the dark, especially as my daughter was enthusiastically telling me just now"--puff--"that she already looks on you as one of the family." "By Jove, did she though?" I hitched to the front of the chair. "How dev--I mean how--" He nodded. "And so I feel justified in talking to you frankly--not that I want to prejudice you against Francis, you understand, but just because"--his head wagged soberly--"_Francis won't do!_" And he looked at me steadily. Something like a sharp pain struck through me. Again--and this time from her own father! I just sat there kind of frozen, you know, except that I could feel the smile slowly loosening in my face. He moved to a seat nearer. "I don't like to seem to be disparaging my own flesh and blood, Mr. Lightnut," he proceeded gravely, "but the truth is Francis is the only one of my children that gives me any anxiety." "Oh!" I felt myself shrink together, my knees slanting away from him. My dashed monocle hung limp. He angled closer. "Jack's drinking is bad--that I admit, but perhaps--h'm--he comes by it naturally; still Jack has never forgotten that he is a gentleman--the son of a gentleman--and has never been what you would call fast, but--" His chest lifted under a deep breath--"but Francis--_whew_!" "Fast--Frances?" It faltered tremulously from my lips; my cigar dropped with a soft thud.