"What do you call this house? It is a great deal more of a palace than
the tumble-down, musty ones of Italy."
Mrs. Randolph seemed enchanted with this rejoinder, for she laughed
rather exultantly as she exclaimed, "Nina will be ready enough to come
home at the end of a week!"
Instead of answering Nina jumped up from the table, calling "There you
are at last, Father darling!"
Her father, a man of distinguished presence, had come into the room
looking at his watch from force of habit. And though his eyes rested
upon his daughter with very evident pride and affection, the custom of
quickly terminated interviews and the economy of precious time gave a
sharp, decisive curtness to his manner. Every one who came in contact
with him felt the impelling necessity of coming to the point as clearly
and tersely as possible. Just now, with a "Hello, John, my boy," he held
out his hand to Derby and shook his head negatively in answer to his
wife's inquiry if he wanted luncheon.
"Well, are you ready to start?" he asked his daughter, smiling. And then
to Derby he added, "Excuse Nina for a few moments, John; I want to speak
with her. You are going down to the steamer with her, of course?" As
Derby answered affirmatively, Nina picked up her books and followed her
father.
In his own study he drew her to a sofa beside him, and from a number of
papers in his pocket he handed her an envelope.
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