There sprang from that a vague hope that perhaps she might extort a capitulation from her father by a threat to seek that position, and then with overwhelming clearness it came to her that whatever happened she would never be able to tell her father about her debt. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. Winifred listened to his narration with the profoundest attention; and, when it concluded, her tearful eye and throbbing bosom told how deeply her feelings had been interested. She described the Goopes and the Fabians to him, and gave him a sketch of her landlady; and he talked in the most liberal and entertaining way of a modern young woman’s outlook. I’d only get a pack of lies in reply. So long as she could remember, her father had never permitted her to sit at the table unless she came fully dressed. “You see, I will take your arm.
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