from the hotel by the elevated and I got off a mile or so away to walk down and consider."
"Consider what?"
"I must consult with mother; before I take the next step, I must consult with her."
David felt the threat and he paled; then he said: "I don't care what step you take about me. No; that's not true. Of course I care but I mean it doesn't make any difference what you do to me. I can take care of myself. But don't hurt Fidelia, father! She doesn't deserve it."
He stopped and his father remained silent so David went on: "She wasn't brought up by ideas like ours; she wasn't brought up with any ideas at all except what a girl could pick up for herself from a bank and from schools. I didn't ask her about any ideas when I married her. I just asked her to marry me and she did She's my wife and I won't have you hurt her.
"You can say I am not living up to myself, if you think that way; but you can't say she isn't. She's herself; she's just herself; that's what she is and you shan't hurt her."
Still his father made no reply; he sat down and took off his hat and yet said nothing until, after a few minutes, he arose to start for the station.
"I'll drive you," David said and he did; and he went out with his father to the trainshed and a dusty day-coach for Itanaca.
They passed the parlor car with its clean, white covers over the comfortable chairs, where the electric fans were spinning; David passed the car without idea
