Bingle became
mother to the brood, but they were safe-guarded against the surprise
and shock of future revelations--revelations that so frequently spoil
the lives of those who have lived in happy ignorance. Mr. Bingle,
gentle soul that he was, had the heart to look ahead in this pleasant
game of his. He saw the cruelty of a too loving deception. He foresaw
the desolating results of a too great faith in chance. So his children
were taught to regard him in the light of a protector who was
satisfied to have them feel that he was under obligations to them
instead of the other way round. It was his joy to be called daddy, and
in return for this simple tribute he lavished upon them all the love
and tenderness of a true father and a great deal of the consideration
that a child deserves, but seldom gets, from its own pre-occupied and
self-satisfied parent.
Kathleen knew that she was not the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Bingle.
She had always known that she was the daughter of a Mr. and Mrs.
Hinman, both deceased. In the case of Reginald--and, in a way, Harold
also--there was some uncertainty.
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