alking like a child. After
the education I have tried to provide for you, I had a right to hope you
would at least regulate your tongue by a little common-sense. Do you
not know that I have given up my profession, everything, in order to
come to do my duty here?"
"I wish you hadn't," said the girl doggedly; "it would have been so easy
to decline the trust and remain independent. It's awful to think we've
nothing to live on but what we get out of Roger's money."
"Foolish girl," said her father with a forced laugh, "you are a
delightful specimen of a woman's incapacity to understand the very
rudiments of business. Why, you absurd child, old Roger Ingleton's will
bequeathed me L300 a year for acting as the boy's guardian."
"Yes, for two years. And Roger would have been all that richer if you'd
declined. I'm sure his mother and Mr Armstrong are plenty to look
after him. I'd have liked you so much better, dear father, if you'd
stayed in the army."
"I'm afraid, my poor girl, it is useless to argue with you. When you do
get a wrong idea into your head, nothing will induce you to part with
it, even if it involves an injustice to your poor father."
"Father," said she, "you know it is because I love you and--"
"Enough," said he rather sternly. "I know you mean well."
And he went.
At the door, however, he returned and said--
"By the way, Rosalind, I must mention one matter; not for discussion,
but as my express wish. You named Mr Armstrong just now. I desire
that you hold no communication with him. I have reason for knowing he
is not a desirable person at all."
"If so, you had better take us away from here," said Rosalind, flushing.
"You've no right to let us stay."
"Silence, miss, and bear in mind what I tell you. Do you understand?"
Rosalind had taken up her brush and was painting furiously at her
picture.
Captain Oliphant having waited a minute for an answer and getting none,
stalked out of the room a model of parental anguish. As for Miss
Rosalind, she painted away for a quarter of an hour, and then said to
herself--
"Is he?"
With which profound inquiry she laid down her brush and went to visit
her invalid cousin.
Roger was up, though still coughing, and ensconced in his study.
"How jolly of you to come!" said he.
"I came because I'd nothing else to do," said she, "I'm not jolly at
all."
"Why, what's the row?"
"Can't you guess? Don't you know that I owe you already
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