CHAPTER VI.
THE SURPRISE.
EAPOINT was beautifully situated on a headland, which commanded a view of the boundless sea on one side, and on the other a panoramic view of the fertile Isle of Wight. And this was the summer home of the artist's little daughter. Her governess, Miss Mortimer, had charge of her, but her father came backwards and forwards to see her constantly; for Lilian was all that was now left to him in this world to love except his art, and the days when he came were the brightest of his little girl's life. She knew that he would take her on long rambling walks, and let her clamber about amongst the rocks and little bays and creeks in which she delighted; and that, when she was tired, there was always a comfortable resting-place ready for her in that father's arms; and loving, tender words, which she never heard from any one but him. In his little daughter the artist found his ideal of childish beauty realized. The exquisitely shaped oval face; the large eyes of dark blue, through which the loving little heart looked out at him, and in which, though generally sparkling with fun and merriment, there was sometimes a dreamy intentness, as if they beheld a world more beautiful than any which his art or imagination created; the perfectly formed nose and mouth; the arched forehead, shaded with golden brown hair; the delicate complexion; and the witching charm of the graceful little figure, were a perpetual feast to the artist-father. Miss Mortimer complained bitterly that nothing would make Lilian behave with the due propriety of a young lady; but to her father there was a winsomeness in her free, gay manner, that made up for her wild spirits, which sometimes carried her past the bounds which the worthy governess laid down for her.
It was one of those glorious evenings in early summer, when all nature is bathed in that soft golden light which precedes sunset, and little Lilian was watching for her father's arrival; for it was Friday, and he generally came on that day to stay till Monday.
The eager child had not long to wait; she heard the well-known footstep on the gravel, and she bounded out of the door.
"Well, my Lilian."
"Well, papa." And the soft arms were thrown about his neck as the father stooped to kiss his little daughter.