dainties for Flurry's boy friend.

Flurry prattled a great deal about her father, but I never saw him.
He had his luncheon at the bank. Once when we were playing battledore
and shuttle-cock in the hall--for Miss Lucas liked to hear us all
over the house; she said it made her feel cheerful--I heard a door
open overhead, and caught a glimpse of a dark face watching us; but I
thought it was Morgan the butler, until Flurry called out joyfully,
"Father! Father!" and then it disappeared. Now and then I met him in
the square, and he always knew me and took off his hat; but I did not
exchange a word with him for months.

Flurry loved him, and seemed deep in his confidence. She always put
on her best frock and little pearl necklace to go down and sit with
her father, while he ate his dinner. She generally followed him into
his study, and chatted to him, until nurse fetched her at bed-time.
When she had asked me some puzzling question that it was impossible
to answer, she would refer it to her father with implicit faith. She
would make me rather uncomfortable at times respecting little
speeches of his.

"Father can't understand why you are so fond of play," she said once
to me; "he says so few grown-up girls deign to amuse themselves with
a game: but you do like it, don't you, Miss Cameron?" making up a
very coaxing face. Of course I confessed to a great fondness for
games, but all the same I wished Mr. Lucas had not said that. Perhaps
he thought me too hoidenish for his child's governess, and for a
whole week after that I refused to play with Flurry, until she began
to mope, and my heart misgave me. We played at hide and seek that day
all over the house--Flurry and Flossy and I.