"He'll be very pleased to have you," she said simply. "A few words from me will be quite enough."
"Your empire extends further than over my heart, I see," he said, laughing. "There is your father coming round from the stables. Suppose we go to him."
They met him face to face in the hall. When he saw who his daughter's companion was he looked for a moment grave. But he had all the courtly instincts of a gentleman of the old school, and though outside he might have acted differently, the man was under his own roof now, and must be treated as a guest. Besides, he had implicit faith in his daughter's judgment. So he held out his hand without hesitation.
"Glad to see you, Mr. Maddison. We began to fear that you had deserted us," he said.
"I have been away longer than I intended," Bernard Maddison answered quietly.
"Of course you dine here," Mr. Thurwell continued, moving away. "You'll find Beaumerville in the library or the smoke room. You know your way about, don't you? My gamekeeper wants to speak to me for a moment. I shan't be long."
He crossed the hall, and entered his own room. Helen slipped her arm through her lover's, and led him away in the opposite direction, down a long passage to the other end of the house.
"Consider yourself highly favored, sir," she said, pausing with her hand upon one of the furthest doors. "You are the only male being, except my father, who has ever been admitted here."
She led him into a daintily furnished morning room, full of all those trifling indications of a woman's constant presence which possesses for the man who loves her a peculiar and almost reverent interest. There was her fancy work lying where she had put it down on the little wicker table, a book with a paper knife in it, one of his own; by its side an open piano, with a little pile of songs on the stool, and a sleek dachshund blinking up at them from the hearthrug. The appointments of the room were simple enough, and yet everything seemed to speak of a culture, a refinement, and withal a dainty feminine charm which appealed to him both as an artist and a lover. She drew an easy chair to the fire, and when he was seated, came and stood over him.
"I expect you to like my room, sir," she said softly. "Do you?"