“Why you know, Mummy,” throwing her arm round her waist, “I’ll never, never leave you!” and she covered her face with kisses.
“If you had been a boy, darling, of course I’d never, never have dared to carry you off; but I wanted you so badly, and he did not; you were left alone with your nurse in a corner of that great big house, your father ignored you; he dislikes girls—even grown-up girls.”
“Yet he married a girl, Mummy. Why you were only my age—seventeen!”
“Yes, dear, but your father soon got tired of me. At seventeen, I was years younger than you are; I was painfully timid, silly, and undecided—and——”
“You are undecided still; but there is no one in all the whole world, as clever and good, as my own beautiful Mum,” and Cara bent her fair head, and kissed her mother on the lips.
Hugo Blagdon was now a stout, irascible, red-faced man of fifty-seven, who for the sake of his health was every year compelled to take ‘a cure’ at Carlsbad, and here Cara’s letters followed, and found him. As he casually opened number one, then glanced at the signature, his complexion changed from red to purple.
“What the devil does this mean?” he muttered.
He was soon in possession of full information. In Cara’s fine bold hand, she assured him that only within the last twenty-four hours she had learnt her own and her mother’s story, and that her father was still living. She went on to say, that she was weary of exile, had a craving to see her native land, and him; described herself as tall and fair, very fond of outdoor sports, and games, and hoped that he would soon write to her, send for her, and allow her to know him, and remained his affectionate daughter, Caroline Blagdon. ‘P.S.—Please address Miss Glyn, Poste Restante, Mitzau. I am sending you my photograph.’
“By George!” he exclaimed when he came to the end of her epistle, “a grown-up daughter, and she writes with spirit; no milk and water about her!” Yes, and here was her photograph. It was many years since he had experienced such a thrill of expectation, as when he cut the string, and uncovered a cabinet-sized photograph which displayed a handsome girl, with a resolute jaw, broad shoulders, and large hands. It must be confessed, that the likeness did not do justice to the sitter’s best points—her hair, complexion, and teeth.