Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. 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. "You must have travelled a good deal to know so much about men. ’ The lady looked unexpectedly smug. To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. ‘I want a word with you, my lad. It hadn’t even been called Kentucky back then when the Shawnee still hunted deer over mossy hills and the smoke from their fires could still inspire terror. .
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