"But he isn't," said Adelaide. "At least not what I should have called
attentive when I was a girl."

"Your experience was not long, my dear. You were married at
Mathilde's age."

"You may be sure of one thing, Papa, that I don't desire an early
marriage for my daughter."

"Very likely," returned her father, getting up, and buttoning the last
button of his coat; "but you may have noticed that we can't always get
just what we most desire for our children."

When he had gone, Vincent looked at his wife and smiled, but smiled
without approval. She twisted her shoulders.

"Oh, I suppose so," she said; "but I do so hate to be scolded about the
way I bring up Mathilde."

"Or about anything else, my dear."

"I don't hate to be scolded by you," she returned. "In fact, I sometimes
get a sort of servile enjoyment from it. Besides," she went on, "as a
matter of fact, I bring Mathilde up particularly well, quite unlike these
wild young women I see everywhere else. She tells me everything, and I
have perfectly the power of making her hate any one I disapprove of. But
you'll try and find out something about this young man, won't you, Vin?"

"We'll have a full report on him to-morrow. Do you know what his
first name is?"