She could hardly get out of the place quickly enough to tell him. With head held haughtily high, she left the tea room, looking neither to right nor left at the many she knew who were seeing her. But her cheeks flamed hotly as instinct told her she was the subject of conversation at more than one table that she swept by. Hugh Benton was sympathetic and gentle as he had been since Elinor had chosen to go with him. But he did not take the matter as seriously as she had thought he should. There were matters on his own mind clamoring for attention. One of these was that he had not told his daughter of his intended marriage to Geraldine DeLacy—for the incident of the Plaza tea had occurred before Elinor had any idea her father contemplated re-marriage. Elinor had known, of course, of his infatuation for the widow, and that she had been the cause of the differences between her father and mother. Equally, of course, she had heard much of the gossip concerning the two. But, loving her father as she did, knowing him as she believed she did, it had not entered her head that Hugh Benton would really marry Mrs. DeLacy. And this Hugh Benton knew. He seized on his daughter’s humiliating experience for an entering wedge for his confession. “Poor little girl,” he sympathized. “So she’s seeing that her old dad isn’t accepted as a proper chaperon, is she? I was afraid of as much—but never mind, dear,” and he pulled her to him and seated her on his knee. “We’ll fix all that! There really ought to be an older woman to look after you——” Elinor squirmed about to face him. “Why, Daddy!” she exclaimed. “Whatever do you mean—” Then as her eyes searched his face, and she saw the half shamed, half triumphant look there, the truth slowly dawned on her. She drew back as if stung. She was surprised, angry by turns. She caught his two arms and shook him furiously. “Oh, Daddy! Daddy!” she cried. “Surely, you don’t mean to say that you really intend to marry Geraldine DeLacy?” “Surely, I speak plainly enough, Elinor,” he answered irritably. “But Daddy—she doesn’t love you! She’ll never make you happy!” “Please permit me to be the judge of that.” He was very stern as he lifted her from his knees and set her on her feet. “What right have you to say anything about it?” “The right of one who really loves you, dear.” She threw her arms around his neck in spite of his move to turn away. “One who wants you to be happy. Besides, you’re all I have in the world. I—I can’t bear to lose you.” “You’ll not lose me, baby!” Once more he was all gentleness. “I’ll be just as close to you as ever. Only you do need a woman’s hand, you know, and Geraldine loves you so devotedly. She’ll be just like a sister to you.” “I’m glad, Daddy,” Elinor smiled almost sadly, “that you didn’t say she’d be like—a mother—to me. Oh, well, I suppose you’ve quite made up your mind, so nothing I could say would influence you?”