I took a deep breath. How was I going to explain this? What if Daddy thought that Casimir was my boyfriend? I mean, I knew that I was in love with him, but we didn’t have a romantic relationship at our age! But what if my father dissaproved? Then I’d give him a piece of my mind, and call him a hypocrite and what not… If I did this, then things would only get worse, not better! What was I going to say? “His name is Casimir,” I responded finally, vagually satisfied. “Oh,” Dad said. “He’s nice to talk to,” I added, uncertainly. “How did you meet him?” Dad inquired. I couldn’t gloss this part over. By and large, I was a terrible liar. If anything, I had to be honest with my dad. “That’s the interesting part,” I explained. “He’s Mr. Chrysanthemum’s son. I met him one day. No one told me about him at first, so it was a big surprise,” I said. “Arthur never mentioned him to me,” Dad commented.