She kissed him, and her eyes filled with tears. In that moment of joy in finding her father she forgot even Harold. These words of tenderness were balm to her aching heart, and, too deeply moved to speak, she wept on his shoulder. Henceforth she would be different--everything would be different. And the man himself was scarcely less moved.
"How foolish I have been, Brenda. I have lost the substance for the shadow."
"No, no, father. I love you. I have always loved you. But I thought you did not care for me."
"I care for you now, Brenda. Hush, hush, do not cry, child."
"You won't ask me to marry Mr. van Zwieten now, father?"
"No," replied he, vigorously. "I intend to have nothing further to do with that man."
"Ah!" she exclaimed, raising her head. "At last you have found him out!"
"No, dear, I have not exactly found him out, but I have come to the conclusion that he is double-dealing and dangerous. You shall not marry him, Brenda. You love Harold, and Harold shall be your husband. But I must not lose my daughter," he added tenderly.
"You shall not, father. You shall gain a son. Oh, how happy I am!" and laying her head upon his shoulder she wept tears of pure joy.
For some moments he did not speak, but held her to him closely. He, too, was happy--had not felt so happy for years. How he regretted now having kept this warm, pure affection at arm's length for so long. But time was passing, and Mrs. St. Leger and the colonel might be back at any moment, and he had much to tell her.