“Lily, come down!” Pa’s voice thundered from below.

Lily was out of bed in a bound. She could hardly tie her skirt-strings for trembling. Why was Pa in such a rage?

The moment Lily entered her parents’ room, she realized what it was. Pa was holding a letter in his hand and scowling at her.

“These are nice stories I hear!” he cried. “You let men kiss you? You’ve got a love affair? Come, Lily, is this true?”

“It’s Jimmy’s doing,” thought Lily. “The mean cur! He’s given me away!”

Pa went on hotly:

“And you’re going to marry, are you? To marry Trampy? Here, read that!”

Lily felt hopeless. She took the letter, but did not attempt to read it. White with fear, could she have sprung through the window and fled, she would have done so.

“Well,” Pa went on apace, growing more and more excited, “is all this true? All that they tell me: about your receiving letters, post-cards, jewelry ... and that ring! I’ve seen it! You’re going to marry Trampy, are you? Oh, the man who writes to me knows all about it, saw you with him at the corner of Oxford Street and Newman Street. Is that true, miss? What did you have to tell him, pray? Speak out!”

Lily, terror-stricken, could only droop her head.

“It’s true then that you want to get married, you baggage!”

“Pa!” cried Lily.

But he, with an “Ah!” of rage, sprang upon her, clutched her mass of hair, banged her head against the wall:

“On your knees! Say, ‘I—beg—your—par—don—’”

And, Bang! Bang! Bang! The phrase was punctuated with thumps.

“Oh, Clifton,” implored Ma, “stop! Not so hard!”

“Beg—par—don! Beg—par—don!” continued Pa, without relenting.

Lily was half-stunned, the world throbbed before her eyes, and, delirious with wrath, she hissed:

“Never!”

“But I say, I say you shall not marry him! I’ll kill you first!”

“Yes, I will marry him, yes, yes, I will marry him! kill me, if you like! God is my witness that I had not thought of getting married, but, as you say so, I will!”

His fist closed her mouth. She clasped her arms about her head, to protect herself as best she could, but soon sank to the floor, fainting....

For three days she was in bed, broken, dazed—then, no sooner on her feet, than off to the theater, guarded by Pa and Ma. If they could, they would have padlocked a chain to her ankle and a collar about her neck. Ma chilled Lily with her scornful pity, or racked her with repeated insults:

“A disgrace to the family! You’ll be the death of us!”

She would shower cuffs upon Lily, throw books at her head, or whatever came readiest to hand. Lily hid the books, the umbrellas, shrank into corners, longing to cry; but the tears refused to come. She was too angry. And, with head down, but eyes alert, she crouched like a dog rebelling under blows, with lips drawn back above her teeth, ready to bite.

“I’m going out, or I’ll kill her!” growled Pa, slamming the door behind him.

Pa was thoroughly upset: for Lily to leave him! Just when Hauptmann was starting a fifth troupe; when Pawnee was drawing full houses with his three stars; when competition was increasing and threatening: it meant disaster, certain ruin, the disbanding of his troupe, his contracts canceled. He seethed with indignation; or else, in despair, felt like taking Lily in his arms, seating her on his knee, begging her to tell him that it was all a nightmare, that she would never marry, never marry that Trampy: his good little Lily ... whom her Pa would cover with diamonds! She should have all she wished, and everything, if only she would assure him that it was not true that Trampy, that ungrateful cur, whom he, Pa, had picked out of the gutter, was going to steal his Lily! That damned Jim Crow! Pa, in his fury, bought a revolver to scatter the footy rotter’s brains with, but Trampy received the tip from Tom and vanished, hey, presto, leaving no trace, allowing no sign of himself to crop up anywhere. Pa’s rage was vented on his daughter.

Happily for her, Lily now was a model of conduct. She felt thoroughly calm. Peace seemed to reign in the house. Lily was such a gentle little thing! One day—the very day on which Tom passed her a note from Trampy and she made a package of her new dress and of her photographs, and souvenirs—that evening, as she kissed her father and mother, tears came to her eyes. Then, instead of going to the kitchen, she fetched her bundle, stealthily opened the street-door and ran to the corner, where Trampy was waiting in a hansom, and hi, off for the holidays, the champagne, the long-dreamed-of Paradise!