Beryl disdained to reply to Lucy's words, but, springing lightly from the window-seat, hastened out of the room.
A delicious smell of cooking came to her nostrils as she ran down the wide staircase. Beryl observed it with satisfaction, for she would have dinner with her father to-night in honour of his return, and she had a keen appetite for the dainties which cook was sure to send up on this occasion.
Beryl was the only child in that large, old house, and as such she had many indulgences; but she had never known a mother's love and care. Nearly twelve years had passed since the summer day when Mr. Hollys brought his pretty young bride to her Cornish home. Egloshayle House looked a bright and pleasant abode then, when newly painted and adorned in honour of her coming, and the quiet life of the little seaside village seemed sweet and peaceful to the hearts which clung together so fondly, and made the happiness of each other's life.
The joy had lasted but a short time. Only one year of happy wedded life, and then came death and change.
At Beryl's birth her mother passed from earth, and to the desolate husband the young helpless life seemed a poor exchange for that of which it robbed him.
He went abroad for some years, leaving his babe in the care of servants, who were faithful to their charge, and lovingly tended the child. When at length he returned home, Guy Hollys was very pleased with his tiny daughter, and learned to love her tenderly, though, perhaps, his love was not the wisest, most unselfish form of parental affection. He liked to pet and fondle his little Beryl, showering upon her gifts and indulgences; but his kindness was of a sort that gave him little trouble, and his fondness for her did not incline him to settle down and make his home at Egloshayle again. Since his wife's death, he had returned to the habits of his former bachelor life, and usually lived in London, contenting himself with paying brief visits to his Cornish property, to see that all was going on as it should there, and that the child was well and happy.
In order that Beryl might not be entirely left to servants, he persuaded his sister, an unmarried lady of but small property, to live at Egloshayle House, and take the oversight of the household. Having made this arrangement, he felt fully persuaded that he had done all that could be required of him as a father.
Beryl was very fond of the parent of whom she saw so little, and always hailed his visits with delight. The child's life was not dull, though she had no companion of her own age.
She thoroughly enjoyed her free, wild, seaside life, and found a variety of delights and amusements in rambling along the shore, and exploring the rocks and caves with which it abounded, or in making acquaintance with the honest fisher-folk of the place, who had always a smile and a pleasant word for the little lady of "the House." Her father had given her a pony, on which she used to ride for many a mile along the coast, with Andrew in attendance to see that she came to no harm.
It would have been pleasanter, no doubt, as Beryl sometimes acknowledged, if she had had a child-friend to share her walks and rides; but on the whole she was pretty content with her lot, and did not complain of what could not be helped. These long hours passed in the open air gave her health and strength, and she grew a tall, strong girl, of graceful, well-made figure, and as hardy, agile, and swift-footed as any child in Egloshayle.