"We'll go across the bridge," said Grafton. "I don't suppose dinner's quite ready yet." He turned his back on the restaurant, and his children followed him.
They saw by his face, which was dark and angry, that he wanted nothing said about the meeting. When they came back a little later, their dinner was ready, but Lassigny and his companion were not there.
The incident was soon forgotten by Barbara and Young George as they all made merry over their meal. But Caroline knew that her father had been deeply disturbed by it, in spite of his successful efforts to amuse them. She saw once or twice that reminiscent frowning look come over his face which she had only known during the time that Beatrix had been waiting for Lassigny. He had never worn it before, nor since the news of Lassigny's marriage in America had come to them and broken it all off short. It troubled her to see it again now. Surely he must know that it was all over with Beatrix! It was awkward having met Lassigny like that. But they would not see him again, or, if they did in London, they need take no notice of him. Apparently that was what he wished, as well as her father.
The dusk came on, and the park emptied itself. The lawns and the water seen between the tree trunks were silvered by the moon to mysterious beauty. "It's like a scene in a play," said Barbara. "Do let's have one more little walk round, Dad."
She and Young George hurried off to the lake, while Grafton paid the bill, and Caroline stayed with him. Then they followed the other two.
Caroline slipped her hand into her father's arm. "Darling," she said, "don't let it worry you—meeting him. It's bound to have happened some time or other. We've got it over now."
"I'm glad B wasn't here," was all he said.
"So am I. But if she had wanted curing, I think that would have cured her. Fancy choosing that for his wife, after knowing B!"
"It wasn't his wife," he said quickly.