“My dear girl, if you are going to begin life by believing all you see in the papers, you will have an uneasy time of it. I can tell you something much more startling which has not yet appeared in print.” “What is that, father?” asked the girl, looking up at him. “That you have been a most unruly child all day, causing deep anxiety to those responsible for your upbringing.” Edna sank her head again upon her father’s knee. “Yes,” she said, “that is quite true. I have been dreadfully wicked and rebellious, saying things I ought not to have said.” “And leaving unsaid the things,--ah well, none of us is quite perfect. It is a blessing there is such a thing as forgiveness of sins, otherwise most of us would come badly off.” “Somehow, when you are here, nothing seems to matter, and any worries of the day appear small and trivial, and I wonder why they troubled me; but when you are away--well, it’s different altogether.” “That is very flattering to me, Edna, but you mustn’t imagine I’m to be cajoled into omitting the scolding you know you deserve. No, I can see through your diplomacy. It won’t do, my dear girl, it won’t do.” “It isn’t diplomacy or flattery; it’s true. I’ll take my scolding most meekly if you tell me what happened to-day.” “I refuse to bargain with a confessed rebel; still, as I must get you off to bed before morning, I will tell you what happened. An attempt was made to settle the strike to-day. The men had a meeting to-night, and I waited at my club to hear the outcome. I had a man at the meeting who was to bring me the result of the vote as soon as it was taken. A young man--one of the strikers, but the only man of brains among them--saw me this afternoon, and made certain proposals that I accepted. Gibbons was to be renounced, and a deputation of the men was to come to me. We should probably have settled the matter in ten minutes, if it had come off.” “Then he failed, after all his trouble?” “Who failed?” “The--the young man you speak of?” Edna found her _rôle_ of deceiver a difficult one. She was glad her father could not see her face, and bitterly regretted giving Marsten a promise not to tell of his visit. “Yes, he failed. Of course there was not time to canvass the men properly, and at the meeting Gibbons, who is a glib talker, won over enough to defeat the efforts of the others. It wasn’t much of a victory, but sufficient for the purpose. They had, I understand, a very stormy meeting, and Gibbons won by some dozen votes or thereabouts.” “And what is to be done now?” “Oh, we are just where we were. I’ll wait a few days more, and, if the men do not come back, I’ll fill their places with a new lot. I don’t want to do that except as a last resort, but I won’t be played with very much longer. Now, dear girl, you know all about it; so to bed, to bed, at once, and sleep soundly. This dissipation cannot be allowed, you know.”