"EdwardSalisburyField-CupidsUnderstudy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Field Edward Salisbury)

"I'm Tom Middleton, from California, and this is my daughter
Elizabeth. We're both very grateful to you, and if you should ever
happen to come to California, I hope you'll look us up."

That's Dad all over!

I never saw anybody look so pleased as the young man: "My name's
Porter," he said, "Blakely Porter. If my mother were in New York I
would ask if she might call on Miss Middleton, but, as it happens,
she's in California, where I intend to join her, so I shall look
forward to seeing you there."

Then Dad did just the right thing. "What's the use of waiting till
we get to California?" he said. "Why not dine with us to-night!"

There are people, merely conventional people, who could never
appreciate the fine directness and simplicity, of Dad's nature--not
if they lived to be a thousand years old. But Mr. Blakely Porter
understood perfectly; I know he did, for he told me so afterwards.
"It was the greatest compliment I ever had paid me in my life," he
said. "Your father knew nothing about me, absolutely nothing, yet he
invited me to dine with him--and you. It was splendid, splendid!"

The dear boy didn't know, perhaps, that honesty shone in his eyes,
that one could not look at him and deny he was a gentleman. And, of
course, I didn't enlighten him, for it is well for men,
particularly, young men, to feel grateful, and the least bit humble;
it keeps them from being spoiled.

But to return to the dinner invitation: Mr. Porter accepted it
eagerly. "It is more than kind of you," he said. "My mother is away,
and her house is closed. It is my first home-coming in four years,
and I should have been lonely to-night."

And poor Dad, who has been lonely--oh, so lonely!--ever since
Ninette died, shook hands with him, and said: "If my daughter and I
can keep you from feeling lonely, we shall be so. glad. We are
stopping at The Plaza, and we dine at half past seven."

Then Mr. Porter found us a taxi-cab, and away we went.

It was good to be in America again. I made Dad stop the car, and
have the top put back, even though it was freezing cold, for I had
never been in New York before (when I'd gone to France, I had sailed
from New Orleans) and I wanted to see everything. The tall
buildings, the elevated, even the bad paving till we got to Fifth
Avenue, interested me immensely, as they would any one to whom.
Paris had been home, and New York a foreign city. Not that I had
ever thought of Paris as my real home; home was, where my heart was-
-with Dad. I tried to make him understand how, happy I was to be