"Then, I was right. Something HAS happened; you are not friends with him any longer. And he is poor—in trouble—oh, father!"
She snatched her hand away, and flashed upon him reproachful eyes. John took her gently by the arm, and made her sit down upon the wall of a little stone bridge, under which the moat slipped with a quiet murmur. Maud's tears dropped into it fast and free.
That very outburst, brief and thundery as a child's passion, gave consolation both to her father and me. When it lessened, John spoke.
"Now has my little Maud ceased to be angry with her father?"
"I did not mean to be angry—only I was so startled—so grieved. Tell me what has happened, please, father?"
"I will tell you—so far as I can. Lord Ravenel and myself had some conversation, of a very painful kind, the last night he was with us. After it, we both considered it advisable he should not visit us again for the present."
"Why not? Had you quarrelled? or if you had, I thought my father was always the first to forgive everybody."
"No, Maud, we had not quarrelled."
"Then, what was it?"
"My child, you must not ask, for indeed I cannot tell you."