“Oh, no,” said Cally.

Down forty feet of bricked walkway, through the swinging iron gates, out upon the public sidewalk, Carlisle walked silently beside the attacker of her father, the religious fellow whom Hugo Canning so disliked.  About them in the pale dusk tall street-lights began to twinkle.  Over them hung the impenetrable silence.  It was but three blocks from the Woman’s Club to the House of Heth.  They had traversed half of one of them before Vivian gave voice: 

“I merely wanted to say this.”

And on that they walked ten steps without more speech.

“This,” resumed Mr. V.V., and his voice was not easy.  “You must have thought it strange the other day, when I told you the—­the work I had taken up....  My articles, I mean....  I should know, if anybody does, that you—­your family—­have had much trouble to bear of late....  It seems that I should be the last person to do what will bring you more trouble—­annoyance certainly, pain perhaps....  I felt that I wanted you to know, at least, that it took a—­a strong necessity to make me go into the matter—­at this time....  I wanted to tell you that—­personally—­I’ve been very sorry about it....”

She hesitated a moment, and then said: 

“I don’t doubt that....  I haven’t doubted it since I stopped to think.”

And if this was disloyalty to papa, Cally felt that she could not help it....  What, after all, did she know about it?  Surely it was all a men’s matter, a mere question of “reform,” in which some thought one way and some another, and each side said hard things without meaning them exactly.  Probably papa would be the last person to wish her to interfere....

“Thank you,” he replied, it seemed with feeling in his voice.  And walking on, looking straight before him, he added: 

“There was one thing more ...  Ah—­pardon me.”

The young doctor carried a cane, but used it principally for swinging and lunging.  In view of his infirmity, Cally had begun by walking more slowly than was her custom.  It had soon developed, however, that he was a rapid walker, and of absent-minded habit as well, particularly when talking.  So, throughout the brief walk, her difficulty was to keep apace with him.

“What you said just now—­my scolding you about the Works....  I realize that it must have seemed peculiar to you, and—­and—­weak—­unmanly—­my pursuing you so about a—­a—­purely business matter.  Of course you must have felt that if I had criticisms to make, I should have taken them to your father—­instead of inflicting them on you, all the time.”

He paused; but the girl said nothing.  She had, in fact, speculated considerably on this very point:  how could she possibly have any responsibility for the way papa ran his business?  It occurred to her to ask the man plainly whether he considered that she had; but she did not do so, perhaps fearing that he might reply in the affirmative....