door and the sound of father's voice. He had just come in on the
9:23--THAT hadn't been him, after all!

As relief stole over her, drowsiness tugged at her eyelids. But,
just as she was dozing off, she was roused by someone's entering the
room, bending over her.

"Asleep?"

It was father! Her first sensation was of fear, until she realized
his tone was not one to be feared. And, responding to that
tenderness of tone, sharp compunctions pricked her. Dear father!--it
was horrible to have to deceive him.

"I've brought you a little present from town." He was lighting the
gas. "Here!"

Her blinking eyes saw him place a big flat box on the bed. She
fumbled at the cords, accepted his proffered pen-knife, and then--
oh, dear heaven! There, fluffy, snow-white and alluring, reposed a
set of white fox furs!

"S-sh!" he admonished, smiling. "Mother doesn't know about them
yet."

"Oh, father!" She couldn't say any more. And the father, smiling at
her, thought he understood the emotions which tied her tongue, which
underlay her fervent good night kiss. But he could never have
guessed all the love, gratitude, repentance, self-abasement and high
resolves at that moment welling within her.