But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then. His breath grew shallower as he approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his hallway-reverberated footfalls. She thought of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts, of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion. Lucy stood relieved that she had not messed up the solo. One trouble, however, shot its slanting bolts athwart the shining warmth of that opening day and marred its perfection, and that was the thought of her father.
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