way he had put it, so that he had good humour to spare. "If you suggest that you're in political sympathy with him, you mean then that you'll take him as he is?"
"I won't take him at all!" she protested with her head very high; but she had no sooner uttered the words than the sound of the approach of wheels caused her dignity to drop. "A fly?—it must be he!" She turned right and left, for a retreat or an escape, but her father had already caught her by the wrist. "Surely," she pitifully panted, "you don't want me to bounce on him thus?"
Mr. Prodmore, as he held her, estimated the effect. "Your frock won't do—with what it cost me?"
"It's not my frock, papa,—it's his thinking I've come here for him to see me!"
He let her go and, as she moved away, had another look for the social value of the view of her stout back. It appeared to determine him, for, with a touch of mercy, he passed his word. "He doesn't think it, and he shan't know it."
The girl had made for the door of the morning-room, before reaching which she flirted breathlessly round. "But he knows you want me to hook him!"
