CHAPTER XXII. FATHER AND DAUGHTER. After Sprague had left her, Agnes, shaken by the conflicting emotions of the day, had gone to her room to rest and to prepare for the interview which she meant to have with her father on the subject of her lover and of Chatham. Having received word that Murdock would remain in his study during the rest of the afternoon, she had taken time to reflect upon what she meant to say, and how she meant to say it. Her visit was not prompted by the desire of a daughter to confide the great happiness of her life to the loving sympathy of an affectionate parent; but Agnes was punctilious in the performance of what she considered to be her duties, great and small, and she counted it among those duties to obtain, or at any rate to seek, the paternal sanction of her choice of a husband. Her knock at the door of Murdock's study was answered in the chemist's quiet voice: "Come in." As she opened the door, Murdock advanced to meet her. He seemed to come from the direction of the extension. Miss Murdock sniffed the air. "Isn't there a leak of gas?" she inquired. "Yes," replied Murdock; "I have just stopped a leak in the laboratory. Won't you take a chair, Agnes?" She felt his calm searching glance upon her; and, in spite of her preparation, she grew embarrassed, as was her wont, in her father's presence. "Did Mr. Chatham wait to see you this afternoon?" she asked, after a momentary silence. Murdock observed her narrowly. "Yes; Chatham has been here to-day. I did not know that you had seen him." "I could not help seeing him; for he forced his way into the parlor, in spite of all the servants could do to prevent him." An almost imperceptible furrow appeared between the chemist's eyes. "Has he been annoying you with his attentions?" The words were spoken in Murdock's usual tones; but Agnes saw something in her father's eyes and in the firm lines of his mouth which sent a cold shiver down her spine, and caused her pity to go out to the unfortunate young man who had offended her. "Perhaps he is more to be pitied than blamed," she suggested gently. "My interview with him was certainly not pleasant; but I bear him no malice." "Tell me about it," said Murdock slowly. Agnes gave her version of the visit, in which, instinctively, she softened, as much as possible, the passion and brutality displayed by the accountant. Murdock listened in silence until she had quite finished. Then Agnes noticed that his right hand was clenched upon the arm of his chair with a force which caused the muscles to stand out in hard knots. She looked up into his face in sudden surprise. His features gave no indication of what his feelings might be; and his voice, as usual, was steady and deliberate.