"Take off that--that _thing_!"

"Yes, father." She untied the strings obediently.

"If your husband chooses to dress and carry you about the country
like a figure of fun, I cannot prevent him. But in my house remember
that I am your father, and take my assurance that, although Jezebel
tired her head, she had the saving grace of not looking like a fool."

Mr. Wesley turned on his heel and strode back to his books.


"Why don't you stand up to him?" asked Mr. Dick Ellison suddenly, on
the road to Kelstein.

"To father?" Hetty came out of her day-dreams with a start.

"Yes: you've been having a tiff this morning, anyone can see.
Young man is poison to him, hey? Why don't you take a leaf out of my
book? 'Paternal authority'--and a successor of the apostles into the
bargain--that's his ground. Well, I don't allow him to take it.
'Beggars can't be choosers' is mine, and I pin him to it. Oh, yes,
_I'm_ poison to him, but it does him good. 'That cock won't crow,'
I say. He's game enough on his own dunghill, but a high-blooded lass
like you ought to be his master by this time. Hint that you'll cut
the painter, kick over the traces--you needn't _do_ it, y'know.
Threaten you'll run and join the stage--nothing unlikely in that--
and, by George, it'd bring him up with a clove hitch! Where's your
invention?"