"A business transaction? Oh, father, have you deceived yourself, or are you trying to deceive me? What has been the matter with you? How could you do it! How could you forget yourself that way—yourself and me!"
The colonel's bravado began to give way, but he tried to take a last stand.
"If there was anything wrong, as you seem to think, in what I did, you should n't blame me for it. I did it for you. I was trying to make you comfortable and make things a little easier for you. I was only trying the best way I knew to make you happy."
"Make me happy!" she repeated. "Did you think it would make me happy to have a man think I was being sold to him?"
The words burst from her, vibrating with all the anguish of the last two hours. They struck the colonel like a dagger in his heart.
"Oh, Viola!" he said. "Viola—don't!"
He began to tremble, and sat down, looking at her with an aghast, protesting look. Whatever his idea had been in so openly using Viola's name in his dealings with Gault, he had not meant that. Old age, bitter poverty, trampled pride—all had combined to lower that high standard, that proud self-respect, which his daughter had believed to be his. She would never believe in them again.
"You ought n't to say that, Viola," he said
