Bathurst, coming out a few moments later, was struck by her spent look. "Well, Dinah lass," he said lightly, "you look as if it had cost something of an effort to land your catch. But he's a mighty fine one, I will say that for him."
She went to him, twining her arm in his, forcing herself to smile. "Oh, Dad," she said, "he is fine, isn't he?" But—but—she uttered the words almost in spite of herself—"you should see his brother. You should see—Scott."
"What? Is he finer still?" laughed Bathurst, pinching her cheek. "Have you got the whole family at your feet, you little baggage?"
She flushed very deeply. "Oh no! Oh no! I didn't mean that. Scott—Scott is not a bit like that. He is—he is—" And there she broke off, for who could hope to convey any faithful impression of this good friend of hers? There were no words that could adequately describe him. With a little sigh she turned from the subject. "I'm glad you like Eustace," she said shyly.
Bathurst laughed a little, then bent unexpectedly, and kissed her. "It's a case of Cinderella and the prince," he said lightly. "But the luck isn't all on Cinderella's side, I'm thinking."
She clung to him eagerly. "Oh, Daddy, thank you! Thank you! Do you know—it's funny—Scott used to call me Cinderella!"
Bathurst crooked his brows quizzically. "How original of him! This Scott seems to be quite a wonderful person. And what was your pet name for him I wonder, eh, sly-boots?"
She laughed in evident embarrassment. There was something implied in her father's tone that made her curiously reluctant to discuss her hero. And yet, in justification of the man himself, she felt she must say something.
"His brother and sister call him—Stumpy," she said, "because he is little and he limps. But I—" her face was as red as the hunting-coat against which it nestled—"I called him—Mr. Greatheart. He is—just like that."
Mr. Bathurst laughed again, tweaking her ear. "Altogether an extraordinary family!" he commented. "I must meet this Mr. Stumpy Greatheart. Now suppose you run upstairs and turn on the hot water. And when you've done that, you can take my boots down to the kitchen to dry. And mind you don't fall foul of your mother, for she strikes me as being a bit on the ramp tonight!"