"It is, it is," agreed Montagu, lapsing straightway into self-pity. "Too true! Believe me, Jean, I know what it means, better than most."
"Still, you are not entirely alone," Miss Leslie reminded him. "You have Peggy."
"It is a fact," admitted Falconer with an air of gloomy sarcasm, "that I do possess a daughter; but for all practical purposes I might as well be Robinson Crusoe. I never see her by day, for I am busy in the studio and naturally do not want to be pestered. In the afternoon, as often as not, she goes out or invites some people in. In either case I take my tea alone, for I cannot stand her associates. When she does go out she frequently returns only just in time to give me my dinner."
"I am sorry," she said. "I had not realised things from your point of view. It all shows how little we really know of one another's inner lives."
"And the only nights upon which she ever seems to stay at home," concluded the neglected parent, "are those on which I go out."
Montagu was accustomed to go out about five nights a week, and his daughter perhaps twice a month; so this statement may have been approximately correct.
"I see I have often been thoughtless in my previous attitude toward you, Montagu," said the contrite Miss Leslie. "We women are apt to forget that a man--even a strong, self-reliant man--may sometimes unbend. He, too, may desire companionship,--the right sort of companionship, of course,--as much as the weakest woman. Forgive me!"
Montagu, highly appreciative of the very proper spirit displayed by Miss Leslie, forgave her freely, and then launched into a further catalogue of grievances, Adolphus Prince retiring for the time modestly into the background.
When he had finished, Miss Leslie said:--
"Peggy is young, and perhaps thoughtless. When she marries--"
Montagu Falconer nearly bounded out of his chair. He was genuinely alarmed.
"Marry? That child marry? Good God, Jean, don't suggest such a thing! What would become of me, I should like to know. What does the girl want to marry for? Hasn't she got a comfortable home of her own? Hasn't she got me--her father--her only relation in the world--to take care of her? My dear Jean, do not be romantic at your time of life, I beg of you! You haven't been putting notions into her head, I hope?"