thorne to be his wife.
Yet she turned on him fiercely, bristling with pride and tense with
overwrought nerves.

"I will never marry any one," she declared, "who does n't respect my
father as I do!"

If Oliver's jaw fell, it is hardly surprising. He had expected her to
say she would never marry into a family where she was not welcome. He
had planned to get around the natural {5} objections of his parents
somehow--the details of this were vague in his mind--and then he
meant to reassure her warmly, and tell her that personal merit was the
only thing that counted with him or his. He may have visualized
himself as wiping away her tears and gently raising her to share the
safe social pedestal whereon the Pickersgills were firmly planted. The
young do have these visions not infrequently. But to be asked to
respect Peter Lannithorne, about whom he knew practically nothing save
his present address!

"I don't remember that I ever saw your father, Ruth," he faltered.

"He was the best man," said the girl excitedly, "the kindest, the most
indulgent--that's another thing, Ollie. I will never marry an
indulgent man, nor one who will let his wife manage {6} him. If it had
n't been for mother--" She broke off abruptly.

Ollie tried to look sympathetic and not too intelligent. He had heard
that Mrs. Lannithorne was considered difficult.

"I ought n't to say it, but can't explain father unless I do. Mother
nagged; she wanted more money than there was; she made him feel her
illnesses, and our failings, and the overdone beefsteak, and the
underdone bread,--everything that went wrong, always, was his fault.
His fault--because he did n't make more money. We were on the edge of
things, and she wanted to be in the middle, as she was used to being.
Of course, she really has n't been well, but I think it's mostly
nerves," said Ruth, with the terrible hardness of the young. "Anyhow,
she might just as well have stuck {7} knives into him as to say the
things she did. It hurt him--like knives. I could see him wince--and
try harder--and get discouraged--and then, at last--" The girl burst
into a passion of tears.

Oliver tried to soothe her. Secretly he was appalled at these squalid
revelations of discordant family life. The domestic affairs of the
Pickersgills ran smoothly, in affluence and peace. Oliver had never
listened to a nagging woman in his life. He had an idea that such
phenomena were confined to the lower classes.

"Don't you c