And that compact was sealed then and there with a kiss.
Nine months later whilst Colonel Ogilvie was in the library of his own house, “Air” in Airlville, Joy came in and closed the door carefully; she came close and whispered:
“Am I still your little girl, Daddy?”
“Always my dear! always!”
“Then you don’t mind having a secret with me?”
“Mind my dear! I love it. What is it you want to tell me?” She took a folded newspaper from her pocket and handed it to him, saying:
“I came across this in the New York Tribune. Read it!” Colonel Ogilvie turned it over with a rueful look as he said:
“The whole of it!”
“Oh Daddy, don’t be tiresome; of course not.” Her father’s face brightened:
“Then you read what you want me to know. Your eyes are better than mine!” Joy at once began to read: