"Yes, Mr. Ogle?" she said in a troubled voice. "I mustn't stay long just now, I'm afraid."
"I won't keep you. I asked you how you had learned I was the author of 'The Pastoral Scene.' You said your father"
"Oh, no," she interrupted. "That didn't have anything to do with my father. By the way—" she paused, and laughed apologetically—"I was going to say something too impulsive, I'm afraid!"
"Please do."
"Well—you mustn't think anything important about Papa's getting his shoulder patted just now. He's really an old dear, you know: he isn't really kittenish; he never means anything. I don't think you need fear your fascinating lady will flirt too hard with him!"
"If you please," Ogle said;—"she isn't 'my' fascinating lady. I was asking you"
"Oh, that? A lot of American papers were sent to Papa here, and I happened to notice in one of them that Isabella Clarkson, who'd been playing in Laurence Ogle's 'Pastoral Scene,' was rehearsing for 'Hedda Gabler.' So I knew who you were. I hope it won't make any difference in your play."
"None at all. I suppose she's going to do a special
