She said, straining away:

"I don't want to talk about Mr. Holmes."

"But I do. Come, my dear. In this life there must be always a certain
amount of give and take. I'm not the man to drive a one-sided bargain.
I'll make you a fair offer--as between father and daughter. I'll wipe
out all that's past. In leaving me like this, when misfortune has come
upon me, you've been guilty of unfilial conduct--no one can deny it But
I'll overlook everything, forgive you fully and take you to my heart
again and leave you free to do whatever you like without interfering
with your opinions, if you'll promise me one thing--"

"I know what you're going to say." She twisted round on him swiftly. "I
'll promise at once. I'll never marry Mr. Holmes. I've already told him
I won't marry him."

Surprise relaxed his grip. She took swift advantage and sheered away to
the other side of the table. He rose and brought down his hand with a
thump.

"You refused him? Why, you silly little baggage, my condition is that
you should marry him. You're sweet on him aren't you?"

"I detest him," cried Phyllis. "Why should I marry him?"

Her eyes, young and pure, divined some sordid horror behind eyes crafty
and ignoble. Once before she had had such a fleeting, uncomprehended
vision into the murky depths of the man's soul. This was some time ago.
In the routine of her secretarial duties she had, one morning, opened
and read a letter, not marked "Private" or "Personal," whose tenor she
could scarcely understand. When she handed it to her father, he smiled,
vouchsafed a specious explanation, and looked at her in just the same
crafty and ignoble fashion, and she shrank away frightened. The matter
kept her awake for a couple of nights. Then, for sheer easing of her
heart, she went to her adored Betty Fairfax, her Lady Patroness and
Mother Confessor, who, being wise and strong, and possessing the power
of making her kind eyes unfathomable, laughed, bade her believe her
father's explanation, and sent her away comforted. The incident passed
out of her mind. But now memory smote her, as she shrank from her
father's gaze and the insincere smile on his thin lips.

"For one thing," he replied after a pause, pulling his straggly beard,
"your poor dear mother was a lady, and if she had lived she would have
wanted you to marry a gentleman. It's for her sake I've given you an
education that fits you to consort with gentlefolk--just for her
sake--don't make any mist