“But, dear, think! He is your father. As he anticipated, he was here comparatively screened from the fury of the wind; and when he gazed upon the roaring fall beneath him, visible through the darkness in a glistening sheet of foam, his heart overflowed with gratitude for his providential deliverance. Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. Only I just want him. “The very question shows your ignorance,” he declared. It’s just that I want to say. The couple reappeared from behind the curtains, both visibly shaken. No— no, it must never be. She had never been there before at that hour, in that light, and it seemed to her as if she came to it all for the first time. "He is," replied a portly personage, arrayed in a gorgeous yellow brocade dressing-gown, lined with cherry-coloured satin, and having a crimson velvet cap, surmounted by a gold tassel, on his head.
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