Nansie thought with sadness of the disclosure made by her father of the extent of his worldly resources, and at that moment the subject of her thoughts made his appearance. Mr. Loveday did not betray surprise at finding his daughter with Kingsley, but she blushed scarlet when she saw him, and Kingsley was not free from a certain embarrassment.
"You rose before me this morning," said Mr. Loveday to Nansie. "Have you been out long?"
"About half an hour, father," she replied.
"You have not met Mr. Manners by accident," he observed.
"No, father; Kingsley and I made the appointment last night."
"Last night! At what strange hour, then, and where?" Kingsley looked at her encouragingly, and whispered: "Be brave. I will tell him all."
This gave her courage.
"The appointment, father," she said, archly, "was made last night when the nightingale was singing."
He allowed his eyes to rest for a brief space upon hers, and he saw truth and innocence so clearly depicted therein that a deep breath escaped him, as though a weight had been lifted off his heart. But this assurance of his daughter's guilelessness was another argument against the man who, in the father's opinion, was playing upon her feelings.
"Go and prepare breakfast, Nansie," said Mr. Loveday. "I will join you presently."