so, even if she is my daughter. What are you
talkin' about?"

Mr. Black waved his hand. "Keep your hair on, Dan," he counselled
pleasantly. "I like Gertrude, always have. I always thought she was as
sensible as she is pretty, and that's saying something. But what has got
into her since she got here in Scarford? You used to tell me she didn't
care anything for society and all the rest of it; now she seems to be as
daffy as her--well, as my wife, if you like that better."

"Daffy! See here, Barney Black, I--"

"Hush! Don't begin to yell or we'll have that hen convention in the
parlor down on us. I'm not finding any fault with your daughter. I'm
only talking for her good and yours. What does she care about this
confounded Chapter foolishness?"

"She don't care nothin' about it."

"Doesn't she? She seems to be mighty interested in that talk they're
having in there now. And she was as joyful as the rest of 'em over this
Canby woman's 'At Home.'"

The captain was quite aware of the apparent joy; and Gertrude's growing
interest in her mother's Chapter and its members was too obvious to be
denied. Nevertheless, he tried to deny it.

"Oh, that's nothin'," he declared. "She and Serena have always been
plannin' together over things, and this Chapter's like the rest, that's
all. As for the 'At Home,' why--why--well, Gertie's young, and young
folks generally like a good time."

"A good time! Great Scott! Have you ever been to that Canby apartment
and seen the crowd that--No, of course you haven't. Dan, if my wife
heard me she'd take my head off, but you're an old friend of mine and
I like your daughter. Listen to me: Don't let Gertrude go to that 'At
Home' if you can help it."

"Don't let her! How am I goin' to help it?"

"I don't know. Keep her in the house. Lock the door and hide the key.
I would. If she was my daughter I'd--I'd chloroform her. Hanged if I
wouldn't!"

Captain Dan's indignation was rapidly changing to alarm.

"See here, Barney," he demanded, "what are you tryin' to say, anyhow?
What's wrong with this Miss Canby? Out with it."

"Nothing's wrong with her, so far as I know. And yet there isn't
anything right. She's good enough, I guess, and she can play the piano
like a streak, but she's a fool. She and the gang she is with
are bleached-haired, frowzy-headed idiots, who hope they are
Bohemians--whatever that is. They like to do what they call unusual
things; they like to shock people--think it's smart