Theo's throat contracted, a passion of loyalty surged through her. Her father's momentary bitterness hurt her doubly, because it showed the pain which he would never admit. He would not allow of sympathy, would permit no recriminations or self-pity from himself or her. It was his pride to accept adversity with the same cheerful, bantering equanimity with which he had taken good fortune, and she admired him for it with a vehemence that had in it at that moment something of worship.

She took his hand and laid it softly against her cheek. 'It is you who are the great man'—she tried to speak with lightness, knowing his dislike of sentimentality, but her voice shook.

He said nothing, though he was profoundly moved. Her faith in him was sweet and more necessary to him than he would allow himself to know. Still, he had ample faith in himself, too—in his ability to surmount this present unfortunate setback and rise like the phoenix into a new incarnation so magnificent as to make his previous activities look like the games of children. He intended to set this plan before her, she was an integral part of it. But not now.

' Did you say you had guests, Theo?' he asked. 'Won't they think it exceeding strange that you absent yourself for so long?'

She started and gave a dismayed laugh. 'I had forgotten them. Oh, Father, I had planned a triumphal entry for you. I thought first to put them in a merry, convivial frame of mind, with—with music and food and our brandy punch. But it's been a complete fiasco.'

'Who are they?' he asked, amused.

'Who but Alstons, Alstons, Alstons! They don't approve of me any more, or you. I thought to win them over, or at least to dazzle them into graciousness despite themselves, but-——'

'But they won't be dazzled?' said Aaron.

'They're a long-nosed, spiteful, hidebound parcel of dolts!' she cried. 'And I cannot subject you to their hostility. You'll have to get upstairs some way and stay there until they go.'

Aaron chuckled. He perfectly understood her plan, and its dramatic possibilities tickled him.

'Oh, no, my dear. I shall not go skulking upstairs to hiding. We'll carry out your idea as you intended. I can manage the Alstons.'

'Joseph will be very angry,' she faltered, 'and they'll be horrible; you've no notion. They're vexed enough with me already.'

'Courage, my dear. A bold offensive is the essence of victory.'

'But aren't you tired? You've been traveling so long.'

'You know very well I'm never tired. I confess that I should like to make some slight improvement in my clothes before bearding your lions, but, as that is impossible, they must accept me as I am.'