But he melted completely when he did see her. She and her maid were alone in their compartment, and she was standing at the door looking out eagerly for him. She jumped out at once and ran to him. "My darling old Daddy!" she said, with her arm round his neck. "You're an angel to come up and meet me, and I'm so pleased to see you. I suppose we're going to Cadogan Place to-night, aren't we?"
Not a word was said between them of what they had come together for until they were sitting in the dining-room over a light supper. The maid, who was the children's old nurse, had been in the car with them. Beatrix had asked many questions about Abington, and had chattered about the moors, but had not mentioned Lassigny's name. If she had chattered even rather more than she would have done normally upon a similar meeting, it was the only sign of something else that was filling her mind. She had not been in the least nervous in manner, and her affection towards him was abundantly shown, and obviously not strained to please him. If his thoughts of her had been tinged with bitterness, she seemed to have escaped that feeling towards him.
He supposed she had not understood his hostility towards her engagement. His telegram had only summoned her. It would make his task rather more difficult. But the relief of finding her still his loving child was greater than any other consideration. If he had taken refuge in bitter thoughts against her, he knew now how unsatisfying they were. He only wanted her love, and that had not been affected. He also wanted her happiness, and if it was to be his part to safeguard it for the future, by refusing her what she wanted in the present, it touched him now to think that his refusal must wound her. He had not allowed that consideration to affect him hitherto.
"Well, darling," he said, "you've given me a shock. These affairs aren't settled quite in that way, you know."
She looked up at him with a smile and a flush. "I was so happy," she said, "that I forgot all about that. But I came when you wanted me, Daddy."
Yes, it was going to be very difficult. But he must not allow his tenderness to take charge of him, though he could use it to soften the breaking of his decision to her.
"Why didn't he write to me?" he said.
"He did," she said. "Didn't you get his letter?"
"I haven't had it yet. If he wrote, I shall get it to-morrow, forwarded from Abington. He ought not to have asked you to engage yourself to him without asking my permission first."
"Well, you see, darling, it seemed to come about naturally. I suppose everybody was expecting it,—everybody but me, that is," she laughed gently—"and when it did come, of course everybody knew. He said he must write to you at once. He did think of coming down at once to see you, but I didn't want him to. Still, when your second telegram came, he said you'd expect it of him; so he's coming down to-night, to see you to-morrow."