"At any rate your face is very, very red.

I'll leave it to Father.

Isn't his face red, Father ?" "Red as a flannel lung-protector," declared Captain Sam, who was never known to contradict his only daughter, nor, so report affirmed, deny a request of hers.
"Of course it is," triumphantly.

"And it can't be the heat, because it isn't at all warm here." Poor Jed, the long-suffering, was goaded into a mild retort.
"There's consider'ble hot air in here some spells," he drawled, mournfully.

Miss Hunniwell went away reaffirming her belief that Mr.Winslow's friendship for the daughter was merely a strategical advance with the mother as the ultimate objective.
"You'll see, Father," she prophesied, mischievously.