It seemed almost too wonderful to be true. There was but one flaw. What would her mother say—when she finally told her? Her heart missed a beat in mere anticipation. “Dad will surely understand,” she told herself. She could always bring him about to her way of thinking. She reached for his hand. “Are you tired, Daddy dear?” “No, little one,” he replied. “I was just living over the evening—I don’t remember when I have so thoroughly enjoyed myself.” “I’m so glad. I was afraid you might be dreadfully bored. How do you like Geraldine?” “She is one of the most charming, interesting women I have ever met.” His answer came decisively, then there was a note of peevishness in his voice as he added: “Really, Elinor, I can’t see why your mother should object to her.” The girl tossed her head. “Oh, mother objects to anyone who is—well, the least bit—modern,” she replied impatiently. “Was she always so—so old-fashioned, Dad?” Hugh closed his eyes. His thoughts traveled back over the years, until he found himself sitting on the steps of a humble four-room cottage, a beautiful girl beside him, his arm about her waist, and her head pillowed on his shoulder, their hearts aflame with love, pure, warm and, they believed, changeless. “I don’t know,” he answered dreamily. “Your mother was very beautiful, my dear, and there was a time she meant the world to me. Perhaps—I can’t tell now—perhaps she was always—what you term—old-fashioned, but our ideas coincided perfectly in those days—now everything appears differently to me. I wonder sometimes, am I the one who is changed?” Elinor Benton gave her father’s arm a little squeeze. “Well, if you were ever like mother is to-day, all I can say is, thank heaven you have changed,” she said, with fervor. “But Daddy, dear, you never could have been like mother; you’re so wonderfully broad-minded about everything.” “Am I, baby girl?” Hugh smiled. “Perhaps I appear that way to you, because as yet there has been nothing to warrant my acting otherwise.” “That’s just it. The things that you consider perfectly all right, are the very ones that meet with mother’s disapproval. I wonder how she will act when the time arrives for me to choose a husband?” She seemed to ponder aloud, but in reality feeling her way cautiously. “Why wonder about anything as distant as that?” “Surely, you don’t wish me to be an old maid?” Elinor demanded indignantly. “An old maid,” Hugh laughed heartily. “You are only a baby, and just beginning to see the world.” “I’m past eighteen—please remember that, and——” Her father turned her face upward to look at her quizzically. “Who is the man, Elinor?” Hugh asked playfully. “What—what do you mean, Daddy?” She could not quite hide a feeling of alarm, but her fears were calmed as her father queried: “Young Bronlee?”