"I don't think I do," he said, wondering what was forthcoming. "Why do
you ask?"

"Because I do to some extent," she said, slowly, a reminiscent
expression in her eyes, "and something seems to tell me that you and I
are in danger of being parted. I have felt forewarnings often. Once I
actually knew my father was in trouble when he was several miles from
me, and there was no hint of the matter from any external source."

"Strange," he said. "Was it something serious?"

"His life was in danger," Dolly said, "and he was on the point of
committing a crime which would have ruined us all. It was this way. A
rough mountaineer had become angry with me for keeping his disobedient
child in after school was out. He was drinking, and he made a
disrespectful remark at the store about me which reached my father's
ears. My father has an awful temper which simply cannot be controlled,
and, taking his revolver, he went to find the man. None of us at home
knew what he intended to do, but exactly at the hour in which he met
the man, fought with him, and shot him almost fatally, I felt that
something was wrong, I was in the schoolroom trying to get my mind on
my work, but I could not do it. I could think of nothing but my father
and some crisis which he seemed to be going through. So I was not
surprised later to learn of his trouble."

"I did not know your father had such a hot temper," Mostyn said. "He
looks like a man who is not easily upset."

"It is all beneath the surface," Dolly answered. "You have no idea how
careful I have to be. He seldom is willing for the young men about