Suddenly Horace realized that her slender, wiry body was pressed against his own.

He was conscious of her soft cheek against his.

He felt at once in the grip of a tiger and a woman, and horribly helpless, more helpless than he had ever been in his whole life.

What could he say or do?
Then suddenly the parlor door opened and Mrs.Ayres, Lucy's mother, stood there.

She saw with her stern, melancholy gaze the whole situation.
"Lucy!" she said.
Lucy started away from Horace, and gazed in a sort of fear and wrath at her mother.
"Lucy," said Mrs.Ayres, "go up to your own room." Lucy obeyed.