"May I meet your father?" he
asked the girl.

Vona presented him, recovering her composure by the aid of Frank's
steadiness.

"How-de-do!" said Mr. Harnden, stiffly. He did not ask the caller to be
seated. Vona gave the invitation. While Vaniman hesitated, the master
of the household had a word to say, putting on his best business air.
"Ordinarily, young man, the latchstring of my home is out and the boys
and the girls are welcome here to make merry in a sociable way." Mr.
Harnden was distinctly patronizing, with an air that put Frank into
the intruding-urchin class. "But it so happens that this evening Banker
Britt has seized the opportunity of my being in town and he and I are in
close conference regarding an important matter in the investment line.
You'll excuse us, I'm sure."

It was certainly no moment to go tilting in the field of Love, and
Frank, though undaunted, was deferential; and he was compelled to
recognize the father's rights as master of the household. He bowed and
turned to leave, carefully keeping his eyes off Britt.

But Vona had her word to say then; her foot was on the hearth of home;
she had that advantage over Frank. Moreover, she was moved by the
instinct of self-protection; she did not relish the notion of being left
alone with that trio.

"We can kindle a fire in the front room, father!"

"There hasn't been a fire in that room all winter, dear girl." Mrs.
Harnden's protest was sweetly firm. "No one shall run the chance of
catching a cold."

"Exactly! It's tricky weather, and we must be careful of our guests,"
agreed Mr. Harnden. "Call again, young sir!"

"I will," stated Vaniman. He turned and addressed Vona. "The little
matter will take no harm if it's postponed till to-morrow," he told her.
His gaze was tender--and the girl looked up at him with an expression
which even a careless observer would have found telltale. Britt's vision
was sharpened by such jealous venom that he would have misconstrued even
innocent familiarity. He had been struggling with his passion ever since
Vaniman had appeared, escorting the girl in from the night where the two
had been alone together. Age's ugly resentment at being supplanted by
youth was sufficiently provocative in this case where Britt ardently
longed, and had promised himself what he desired; but to that
provocation was added the stinging memory of the blow dealt that day
by Youth's hand across Age's withered mouth; he licked the swollen lips