imed triumphantly, 'here is my father!' And she
caught the Dictator's hand in hers and drew it to her breast.

This was the sight that showed itself to a father's eyes. Sir Rupert had
not thought of anything like this. He was utterly thrown out of his
mental orbit for the moment. He had never thought of his daughter as
thus demonstrative and thus unashamed.

'Was this well done, Helena?' he asked, more sadly than sternly.

'Bravely done--by Helena,' the Dictator exclaimed; 'well done as all is,
as everything is, that _is_ done by Helena!'

'At least you might have told me of this, Ericson,' Sir Rupert said,
turning on the Dictator, and glad to have a man to dispute with. 'You
might have forewarned me of all this.'

'I could not forewarn you, Sir Rupert, of what I did not know myself.'

'Did not know yourself?'

'Not until a very few minutes ago.'

'Did you not know that you were making love to my daughter?'

'Until just now--just before you came in--I did not make love to your
daughter.'

'Oh, it was the girl who made love to you, I suppose!'

The Dictator's eyes flashed fire for a second and then were calm again.
Even in that moment he could feel for Helena's father.

'I never knew until now,' he said quietly, 'that your daughter cared
about me in any way but the beaten way of friendship. I have been in
love with Helena this long time--these months and months.'

'Oh!'

This interrupting exclamation came from Helena. It was simply an
inarticulate cry of joy and triumph. Ericson looked tenderly down upon
her. She was standing close to him--clinging to him--pressing his hand
against her heart.

'Yes, Sir Rupert, I have been in love with your daughter this long time,
but I never gave her the least reason to suspect that I was in love with
her.'

'No, indeed, he never did,' Helena interrupted again. 'Don't you think
it was very unfair of him, papa? He might have made me happy so much
sooner!'

Sir Rupert looked half-angrily, half-tenderly, at this incorrigible
girl. In his heart he knew that he was conquered already.

'I never told her, Sir Rupert,' the Dictator went on, 'because I did not
believe it possible that she could care about me, and because, even if
she did, I did not think that her bright young life could be made to
share the desperate fortunes of a life like mine. Just now, on the eve
of parting--at the thought of parting--we both broke down, I suppose,
and we knew each other--and then--an