nd
wasn't the boulevard better than the court? It was his theory too that
he nattered and caressed Miss Francie's father, for there was no one
to whom he had furnished more copious details about the affairs, the
projects and prospects, of the Reverberator. He had left no doubt in the
old gentleman's mind as to the race he himself intended to run, and Mr.
Dosson used to say to him every day, the first thing, "Well, where have
you got to now?"--quite as if he took a real interest. George Flack
reported his interviews, that is his reportings, to which Delia and
Francie gave attention only in case they knew something of the persons
on whom the young emissary of the Reverberator had conferred
this distinction; whereas Mr. Dosson listened, with his tolerant
interposition of "Is that so?" and "Well, that's good," just as
submissively when he heard of the celebrity in question for the first
time.

In conversation with his daughters Mr. Flack was frequently the theme,
though introduced much more by the young ladies than by himself, and
especially by Delia, who announced at an early period that she knew what
he wanted and that it wasn't in the least what SHE wanted. She amplified
this statement very soon--at least as regards her interpretation of Mr.
Flack's designs: a certain mystery still hung about her own, which, as
she intimated, had much more to recommend them. Delia's vision of the
danger as well as the advantage of being a pretty girl was closely
connected, as was natural, with the idea of an "engagement": this idea
was in a manner complete in itself--her imagination failed in the oddest
way to carry it into the next stage. She wanted her sister to be engaged
but wanted her not at all to be married, and had clearly never made up
her mind as to how Francie was to enjoy both the peril and the shelter.
It was a secret source of humiliation to her that there had as yet to
her knowledge been no one with whom her sister had exchanged vows; if
her conviction on this subject could have expressed itself intelligibly
it would have given you a glimpse of a droll state of mind--a dim theory
that a bright girl ought to be able to try successive aspirants. Delia's
conception of what such a trial might consist of was strangely innocent:
it was made up of calls and walks and buggy-drives, and above all of
being, in the light of these exhibitions, the theme of tongues and
subject to the great imputation. It had never in life occurred to