The Canon had already gone indoors. He was never other than occupied, and Valeria had never seen him impatient of an interruption.
“The man who wants me is the man I want,” the Canon sometimes quoted, with his wonderfully attractive smile.
“Father is wonderful. Never could I disappoint or grieve him,” thought Val vehemently.
She suddenly wheeled round and returned to the open window, determined that Lucilla, the astonishing Lucilla, should know of her resolution.
“You know what we were talking about just now?” she demanded abruptly.
Lucilla looked up.
“I’ve quite made up my mind that your advice was wrong,” said Val firmly. “I know you said what you thought was best, and it’s nice of you to want me to be independent, but, after all, one’s duty comes first. I don’t believe it’s my duty to dash away from home and make Father unhappy.”
Lucilla looked down again.
“Of course, if anything happened of itself to make me leave home, it would be quite different. If I married, or anything like that. But just to go away for a purely selfish whim——”
She paused expressively.