“Of course, father, Connie wouldn’t take up anyone she didn’t think perfectly all right. And she’d never put any undesirable acquaintances in Leila’s way. She’s too fond of Leila and too deeply interested in her happiness for that.” “I wasn’t intimating that Connie was consciously influencing Leila in a wrong way in that particular instance. But Leila is very impressionable. So far I’ve been able to eliminate young men I haven’t liked. I’m merely asking your cooperation, and Connie’s, in protecting her. She’s very headstrong and rather disposed to take advantage of our position by running a little wild. Our friends no doubt make allowances, but people outside our circle may not be so tolerant.” “Yes, that’s all perfectly true, father,” Shepherd assented, relieved and not a little pleased that his father appeared to be criticizing him less than asking his assistance. “For another thing,” Mills went on. “Leila has somehow got into the habit of drinking. Several times I’ve seen her when she’d had too much. That sort of thing won’t do!” “Of course not! But I’m sure Connie hasn’t been encouraging Leila to drink. She and I both have talked to her about that. I hoped she’d stop it before you found it out.” “Don’t ever get the idea that I don’t know what’s going on!” Mills retorted tartly. “Another thing I want to speak of is Connie’s way of getting Leila to back her schemes--things like that summer place, for example. We don’t need a summer place. The idea that you can’t have a proper vacation is all rubbish. I urged you all summer to take Connie East for a month.” “I know you did. It was my own fault I didn’t go. Please don’t think we’re complaining; Connie and I get a lot of fun just motoring. And when you’re at the farm we enjoy running out there. I think, Father, that sometimes you’re not--not--quite just to Connie.” “Not just to her!” exclaimed Mills, with a lifting of the brows. “In what way have I been unjust to her?” Shepherd knew that his remark was unfortunate before it was out of his mouth. He should have followed his habit of assenting to what his father said without broadening the field of discussion. He was taken aback by his father’s question, uttered with what was, for Franklin Mills, an unusual display of asperity. “I only meant,” Shepherd replied hastily, “that you don’t always”--he frowned--“you don’t quite give Connie credit for her fine qualities.” “Quite the contrary,” Mills replied. “My only concern as her father-in-law is that she shall continue to display those qualities. I realize that she’s a popular young woman, but in a way you pay for that, and I stand for it and make it possible for you to spend the money. Now don’t jump to the conclusion that I’m intimating that you and Connie wouldn’t have just as many friends if you spent a tenth of what you’re spending now. Be it far from me, my boy, to discredit your value and Connie’s as social factors!”