able covered with mysterious apparatus and
instruments.

Mr. Prohack inspected his daughter as though she had been somebody
else's daughter.

"Well," said he. "You look just like a real business woman, except the
dress."

She was very attractive, very elegant, comically young (to him), and
very business-like in her smart, short frock, stockings, and shoes.

"Can't you understand," she objected firmly, "that this is my business
dress, just as much as a black frock and high collar would be in an
office?"

He gave a short, gentle laugh.

"I don't know what you're laughing at, dad," she reproached him, not
unkindly. "Anyhow, I'm glad some one's come at last. I was beginning to
think that my home had forgotten all about me. Even when I sent up for
some clothes no message came back."

The life-long experience of Mr. Prohack had been that important and
unusual interviews rarely corresponded with the anticipation of them,
and the present instance most sharply confirmed his experience. He had
expected to be forgiving an apologetic daughter, but the reality was
that he found himself in the dock. He hesitated for words, and Sissie
went on:

"Here have I been working myself to death reorganising this place after
Viola went--and I can tell you it needed reorganising! Haven't had a
minute in the mornings, and of course there are the lessons afternoon
and evening. And no one's been down to see how I was getting on, or even
written. I do think it's a bit steep. Mother might have known that if I
_had_ had any spare time I should have run up."

"I've been rather queer," he excused himself and the family. "And your
mother's been looking after me, and of course you know Charlie's still
in Glasgow."

"I don't know anything," she corrected him. "But you needn't tell me
that if you've been unwell mother's been looking after you. Does she
ever do anything else? Are you better? What was it? You _look_ all
right."

"Oh! General derangement. I haven't been to the office since you
decamped." He did not feel equal to telling her that he would not be
returning to the office for months. She had said that he looked all
right, and her quite honest if hasty verdict on his appearance gave him
a sense of guilt, and also renewed suspicions of Dr. Veiga.

"Not been to the office!" The statement justly amazed the girl, almost
shocked her. But she went on in a fresh, satirical accent recalling Mr.
Prohack's own: "You _must_ have been upset! B