Chapter 4 - Page 2

his paper's published? That's where you'll have to pull up sooner or
later," Delia declaimed.

"Do you want to stay right here in Europe, father?" Francie said with
her small sweet weariness.

"It depends on what you mean by staying right here. I want to go right
home SOME time."

"Well then you've got to go without Mr. Probert," Delia made answer with
decision. "If you think he wants to live over there--"

"Why Delia, he wants dreadfully to go--he told me so himself," Francie
argued with passionless pauses.

"Yes, and when he gets there he'll want to come back. I thought you were
so much interested in Paris."

"My poor child, I AM interested!" smiled Francie. "Ain't I interested,
father?"

"Well, I don't know how you could act differently to show it."

"Well, I do then," said Delia. "And if you don't make Mr. Flack
understand _I_ will."

"Oh I guess he understands--he's so bright," Francie vaguely pleaded.

"Yes, I guess he does--he IS bright," said Mr. Dosson. "Good-night,
chickens," he added; and wandered off to a couch of untroubled repose.

His daughters sat up half an hour later, but not by the wish of the
younger girl. She was always passive, however, always docile when Delia
was, as she said, on the war-path, and though she had none of her
sister's insistence she was courageous in suffering. She thought Delia
whipped her up too much, but there was that in her which would have
prevented her ever running away. She could smile and smile for an hour
without irritation, making even pacific answers, though all the while it
hurt her to be heavily exhorted, much as it would have done to be
violently pushed. She knew Delia loved her--not loving herself meanwhile
a bit--as no one else in the world probably ever would; but there was
something funny in such plans for her--plans of ambition which could
only involve a "fuss." The real answer to anything, to everything her
sister might say at these hours of urgency was: "Oh if you want to make
out that people are thinking of me or that they ever will, you ought to
remember that no one can possibly think of me half as much as you do.
Therefore if there's to be any comfort for either of us we had both much
better just go on as we are." She didn't however on this occasion meet
her constant companion with that syllogism, because a formidable force
seemed to lurk in the great contention that the star of matrimony for
the American girl was now shining in the east--in England and France and
Italy. They had only to look round anywhere to see it: what did they