"Come and have a cup of tea."
"No, thank you; I must be going. Good-night, Sunnie!"
He bent over the couch, and Jean instantly retreated into the background.
She saw that her driver was not so young as she had at first imagined. His hair was slightly streaked with grey, he had thick black eyebrows, which gave a sternness to his somewhat rugged features, and a dark moustache. Though not exactly a handsome man, he was a striking one, and there was power and force in his face, which now, as he bent over the invalid child, was softened and full of gentle humour.
"Sunnie," as she was called, put up her face for a kiss, which was instantly given, then she said, in her sweet, peremptory tone—
"Now bend your head for your blessing."
Down went the dark head immediately, and two little hands were clasped across it.
"God bless you to-night, and give you sleep, and keep you good! Amen!"
Jean furtively glanced at Mrs. Gordon to see how she was taking this.
She was standing on the other side of the wide fireplace, one hand grasping the high over-mantel, and her eyes were fixed intently on her child. Not a glimmer of a smile, not a softened line in her immovable face. Yet when Dr. Fergusson turned and held out his hand to her, her eyes smiled, if her lips did not.