t to the lowest. All that
coaxing familiarity! What he said was, if Lily had been his daughter, she
should not be on the stage; but there she was and he couldn't help it;
and, as it was her natural place to be there, he would not be guilty of
the meanness of disgusting a poor girl with the profession which she had
been at pains to learn. He preferred to let her call him "a bad man." And
that required a certain courage; for it was no longer a child talking to
him, but an exquisitely pretty girl. Jimmy could not believe his eyes.
What a change! Was it possible? Having been away from London, on
Harrasford's service, he had not seen her for many months, except the day
before, just in time to shake hands behind the scenes, in the dusk; but
here, in his shop, he hardly recognized her, he could not exactly say why.
One thing was certain: he had left her a child and he now found her a
beautiful girl.

"Tush!" he said to himself. "She's a child for all that. Only, if she
keeps on like this, what a handsome woman she will be!"

That familiarity on the stage: he reproached himself for thinking of it;
it seemed to him an insult to Lily. And he began to talk to her of
different things, kindly and pleasantly, changing from subject to subject.
He explained his drawings on the wall, his ideas: exterior ballistics; the
resistance of the air; risking his life six times in as many seconds....

"He's drunk," thought Lily.

And, to stop this flow of words, as though talking to herself, Lily said
she did not complain; no, she would quite like the bike, if she hadn't got
to practise so hard; she only complained that they didn't treat her "fair"
at home:

"And look how I'm dressed! I've had the same toque two years. And what do
you think of this frock? The material cost four-three a yard. I look like
a tenter in it."

Jimmy did not share Lily's indignation. He thought her neatly and nicely
dressed, in spite of her performing-dog's toque, as she said. It all
suited her so well. But, on examining that clear-cut little face, lifted
toward him with a rebellious air, he felt that the fatigue, even the blows
didn't count; that the hardest thing, for Lily, was to be "badly dressed;"
that she would never swallow that.

"But, look here," said Jimmy, "all this isn't worth making a fuss for; you
get cross about nothing at all; when you came, you were all smiles; and
now ..."

"That's because," Lily began, with a sly laugh--oh, she was exasperate