Mr. Vosburgh listened, with a half-amused expression, to his daughter’s indignant and impetuous words, but only remarked, quietly, “Suppose you find that you have judged Mr. Merwyn unjustly?”

“I don’t think I have done so.  At any rate, one can only judge from what one knows.”

“Stick to that.  Your present impressions and feelings do you credit, and I am glad that your friends’ loyal devotion counts for more in your esteem than Merwyn’s wealth.  Still, in view of your scheme of life to make the most and best of men of brains and force, I do not think you have given the young nabob time and opportunity to reveal himself fully.  He may have recently returned from England, and, since his mother was determined to reside abroad, it was his duty to establish her well before returning.  You evidently have not dismissed him from your thoughts.  Since that is true, do not condemn him utterly until you see what he does.  What if he again seeks your society?”

“Well, I don’t know, papa.  As I feel to-night I never wish to see him again.”

“I’m not sure of that, little girl.  You are angry and vindictive.  If he were a nonentity you would be indifferent.”

“Astute papa!  That very fact perplexes me.  But haven’t I explained why I cannot help thinking of him to some extent?”

“No, not even to yourself.”

Marian bit her lip with something like vexation, then said, reproachfully, “Papa, you can’t think that I care for him?”

“Oh, no,—­not in the sense indicated by your tone.  But your silly dreams and hopes, as you characterize them, have taken a stronger hold upon you than you realize.  You are disappointed as well as angry.  You have entertained the thought that he might do something, or become more in harmony with the last words he spoke to you.”

“Well, he hasn’t.”

“You have not yet given him sufficient time, perhaps.  I shall not seek to influence you in the matter, but the question still presents itself:  What if he again seeks your society and shows a disposition to make good his words?”

“I shall not show him,” replied Marian, proudly, “greater favor than such friends as Mr. Lane and Mr. Strahan required.  Without being influenced by me, they decided to take part in the war.  After they had taken the step which did so much credit to their manly courage and loyalty, they came and told me of it.  If Mr. Merwyn should show equal spirit and patriotism and be very humble in view of the past, I should, of course, feel differently towards him.  If he don’t—­“and the girl shook her head ominously.

Her father laughed heartily.  “Why!” he exclaimed; “I doubt whether in all the sunny South there is such a little fire-eater as we have here.”