He had the eyes of a bacilisk, that creature of Fable.

"I've had a lovely day, Father," I replied. I could be bacilisk-ish
also.

There is a mirror over the drawing room mantle, and he turned me around
until we both faced it.

"Up to my ears," he said, referring to my heighth. "And Lovers already!
Well, I daresay we must make up our minds to lose you."

"I won't be lost," I declared, almost violently. "Of course, if you
intend to shove me off your hands, to the first Idiot who comes along
and pretends a lot of stuff, I----"

"My dear child!" said father, looking surprised. "Such an outburst! All
I was trying to say, before your mother comes down, is that I--well,
that I understand and that I shall not make my little girl unhappy
by--er--by breaking her Heart."

"Just what do you mean by that, father?"

He looked rather uncomfortable, being one who hates to talk sentament.

"It's like this, Barbara," he said. "If you want to marry this young
man--and you have made it very clear that you do--I am going to see that
you do it. You are young, of course, but after all your dear mother was
not much older than you are when I married her."