"Not exactly remembered. It was the feeling I had in my heart, just as Jane said I would, the minute I saw you, that told me it was you. That was why I ran to keep you from going on in your motor car, because if you had, I might have lost you again, forever and ever."
"So you might," said puzzled Hugh Egerton, pleased as well as puzzled. "And that would never have done for either of us."
"It would have been dreadful," replied Rosemary, "to have to wait for another Christmas Eve."
"Christmas Eve seems a day for adventures," said Hugh. "One finds new friends;—and dear little girls; and—goodness knows what I shall find next."
"We must find Angel next," Rosemary assured him. "She'll be so glad to see you."
"Do you really think so? By the way, who is Angel?"
"Mother. Didn't you know that?"
"I expect I'd forgotten," Hugh answered. She looked so reproachful, that not for the world would he have denied all knowledge of Angel. The child evidently took him for someone she had known; perhaps she had seen a photograph of some long lost friend of her family, who resembled him, and she had sprung to a conclusion, as children do. But she was an exquisitely pretty and engaging little thing, a grand little pal, and worth cultivating. Hugh liked children, especially girls, though he had always been rather shy with them, not knowing exactly how they liked best to be entertained, and finding it difficult to think of things to say, in keeping up a conversation. But there was no such difficulty with this child. It was really interesting to draw the little creature out, and see what she would say next. As for finding Angel, however, when the time came to do that, he thought he would prefer to bid Angel's daughter goodbye at the door. He had no fancy for scraping up an acquaintance with strangers through their children.
