"Any time." And then father enters, and I am dumb.

Presently, dinner is announced, and we walk in; I on father's arm.

He addresses me several times with great _bonhomie_ and I respond with nervous monosyllables.

Father is always suavity itself to us, when we have guests; but, when one is not in the habit of being treated with affability, it is difficult to enter into the spirit of the joke.

Several times I catch our guest's frank eyes, watching me with inquiring wonder, as I respond with brief and low-voiced hurry to some of my parent's friendly and fatherly queries as to the disposition of my day.