She pulled up to the family home in a Rolls Royce and stepped out wearing diamonds and a full-length fur coat. As she walked into the house her father said, "Hmmm--they seem to be paying secretaries awfully well in London these days."
The girl took his hands and said "Dad--I've been meaning to tell you something for years but I didn't want to put it in a letter. Obviously I can't hide it from you any longer. I've become a prostitute."
Her father gasped, put his hand on his chest and keeled over. The doctor was called but the old man had clearly lost the will to live. He was put to bed and the priest was called.
As the priest administered the Last Rites with the mother and daughter weeping and wailing nearby, the old man muttered weakly, "I'm a goner--killed by my own daughter! Killed by the shame of what she's become!"
"Please forgive me," his daughter sobbed, "I only wanted to have nice things! I wanted to send you money and the only way I could do it was by becoming a prostitute."
Brushing the priest aside, the old man sat bolt upright in bed, smiling. "Did you say PROSTITUTE ?? I thought you said PROTESTANT!!"