r burn!

CHAPTER XI

NEURASTHENIA CURED

I

Three days later Mr. Prohack came home late with his daughter in the
substituted car. He had accompanied Sissie to Putney for the final
disposition of the affairs of the dance-studio, and had witnessed her
blighting politeness to Eliza Brating and Eliza Brating's blighting
politeness to her. The last kiss between these two young women would
have desolated the heart of any man whose faith in human nature was less
strong than Mr. Prohack's. "I trust that the excellent Eliza is not
disfigured for life," he had observed calmly in the automobile. "What
are you talking about, father?" Sissie had exclaimed, suspicious. "I was
afraid her lips might be scorched. You feel no pain yourself, my child,
I hope?" He made the sound of a kiss. After this there was no more
conversation in the car during the journey. Arrived home, Sissie said
nonchalantly that she was going to bed.

"Burn my lips first," Mr. Prohack implored.

"Father!" said she, having kissed him. "You are simply terrible."

"I am a child," he replied. "And you are my grandmother."

"You wait till I give you your next dancing-lesson," Sissie retorted,
turning and threatening him from the stairs. "It won't be as mild as
this afternoon's."

He smiled, giving an imitation of the sphinx. He was happy enough as
mortals go. His wife was perhaps a little better. And he was gradually
launching himself into an industrious career of idleness. Also, he had
broken the ice,--the ice, that is to say, of tuition in dancing. Not a
word had been spoken abroad in the house about the first dancing-lesson.
He had had it while Mrs. Prohack was, in theory at least, paying calls;
at any rate she had set forth in the car. Mr. Prohack and Sissie had
rolled up the drawing-room carpet and moved the furniture themselves.
Mr. Prohack had unpacked the gramophone in person. They had locked the
drawing-room door. At the end of the lesson they had relaid the carpet
and replaced the furniture and enclosed the gramophone and unlocked the
door, and Mr. Prohack had issued from the drawing-room like a criminal.
The thought in his mind had been that he was no end of a dog and of a
brave dog at that. Then he sneered at himself for thinking such a
foolish thought. After all, what was there in learning to dance? But the
sneer was misplaced. His original notion that he had done something
courageous and wonderful was just a notion.

The lesson had fa