He might go on as the devoted lover until he tired. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. Lucy, would you like to be my date for the silly little dance they call the Junior Prom?\" There was a pregnant pause as she digested the information. Wood—" "That's false!" cried a voice behind him. He stood back and held her shoulders. .
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