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Such is a faint outline of Lucy Gourlay, who, whether
in shadow or whether in light, was equally captivating and irresistible.
On entering the room, her father, incapable of appreciating even the
natural graced and beauty of her person, looked at her with a gaze of
sternness and inquiry for some moments, but seemed at a loss in what
terms to address her. She, however, spoke first, simply saying:
"Has anything discomposed you, papa?"
"I have been discomposed, Miss Gourlay"--for he seldom addressed her as
Lucy--"and I wish to have some serious conversation with you. Pray be
seated."
Lucy sat.
"I trust, Miss Gourlay," he proceeded, in a style partly interrogatory
and partly didactic--"I trust you are perfectly sensible that a child
like you owes full and unlimited obedience to her parents."
"So long, at least, sir, as her parents exact no duties from her that
are either unreasonable or unjust, or calculated to destroy her own
happiness. With these limitations, I reply in the affirmative."
"A girl like you, Miss Gourlay, has no right to make exceptions.


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