At the same moment Mrs. Dodge’s only daughter, Lily, aged eighteen, standing at a window of the drawing-room downstairs, looked forth upon precisely the same scene; but discovered no boy at all upon the brick path. Where her mother saw a snub-nosed boy shambling, Lily beheld a knight of Arthur’s court, bright as the sun and of such grace that he came toward the house like a bird gliding in a suave curve before it lights. Merlin wafted him; she had no consciousness that feet carried him; no consciousness that he wore feet at all. She knew only that this divine bird of hers was coming nearer and nearer to her, while her heart melted within her. Then, investing him with proper human feet for the purpose of her desire, she wanted to throw herself down before the door, so that he would step upon her as he entered. But, instead, she ran to admit him, and, gasping, took him by the hand, led him into the drawing-room, moaned, and cast herself upon his bosom, weeping. “They want to separate us!” she sobbed. “Forever! But you have come to me!” Upstairs, her mother set a paperweight upon the manuscript of “Spiritual Life and the New Generation,” realizing at once that emotional conflict was to occupy her for the next hour or so, if not longer. She descended fiercely to the drawing-room, where the caller, rosy as fire, removed his arm from Lily’s waist, and would have stepped away from her. But Lily moaned, “No!” and clung to him. “Stand away from my daughter!” Mrs. Dodge said. “Explain what you mean by daring to come here.” “I—I want to,” he stammered. “That’s just what I—it’s what I came for. I—I want to——” But Mrs. Dodge interrupted him. “Did you understand me? I said, ‘Stand away from my daughter!’” “I would,” he said, deferentially. “I would, but—but——” He was unable to explain in words a difficulty that was too evident without them: the clinging Lily resisted his effort to detach himself, and it was clear that in order to obey her mother’s command he would need assistance. This, however, was immediately forthcoming. “Lily!” Mrs. Dodge rushed upon her; but Lily clung only the more tragically. “No, no!” she moaned. “This is my place and it is my right!” Mrs. Dodge set really violent hands upon her, and unmistakably there hovered a possibility, in the imminent future, that Lily would not only be removed from her lover but would also get a shaking. Rather than be seen under such undignified circumstances, she succumbed upon a sofa, weeping there. “You _see_,” she wailed;—“you _see_ how they treat me!” “Now, before you march out of here,” her mother said to the intruder, “you explain how you dared to come.” “Well, that’s what I came for,” he responded. “I wanted to explain.” “You make it perfectly clear in one stroke,” Mrs. Dodge said. “You came here to explain why you came here!” “Yes, ma’am.” “Brilliant!” she cried. “But I hadn’t looked for better. I think you may trouble yourself to take your instant departure, Mr. Oswald Osborne!”