Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. Her spirit awoke in dismay to an affection in ruins, to the immense undignified disaster that had come to them. I shall always be kind to him; I sha'n't bait him. I'm told he's so handsome. He could scarcely blame her. It was her job to keep the house as neat as a pin, up to the high standard that Sheila expected, being a nurse.
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