Its beauty brought me no delight,
For I was on a foreign shore;
But now joy cometh with the sight
Of England's chalky cliffs once more."
Quite unaware of the pitfalls prepared for him by his now nearly forgotten wife, Sir Rupert Pethram had returned once more to England, and rejoiced greatly, in his dry fashion, to find himself again under his own roof-tree. Kaituna was delighted to have him home again, and welcomed him with a filial affection that made a deep impression on his somewhat hard nature.
He was not a favourite with the world, being so stiff and dry in his manner that every one felt a feeling of uneasiness towards him; consequently, he was unused to affection, except from his daughter, whom he loved fondly in his own undemonstrative fashion. A difficult man to get on with, at least people said so; and the haughty, distant smile with which he greeted every one was enough to chill the most exuberant expressions of friendship. Not even his residence in New Zealand, where, as a rule, humanity is much more sociable than in England, had eradicated the inherent exclusiveness of his nature. True, in his young days he had been more friendly with his fellow-creatures, but the episode of his wife's divorce had destroyed his feelings of sociability entirely; and although, being an upright, honourable gentleman, he was respected throughout the colony, he was certainly not loved. He was a man who lived entirely alone, and, except his daughter Kaituna, there was no one on whom he bestowed a thought.
Yet he was not uncharitable. If he saw suffering he relieved it; if any one desired help he was not backward in giving his aid; still, even the recipients of his charity found it difficult to feel warmly towards him in any way. He did not believe in gratitude, and therefore never sought for it, but did his good deeds in a stolid matter-of-fact fashion that robbed them of their charm in the eyes of the onlookers. It seemed as though his unhappy married life had blighted his existence, had frozen in his breast all feelings of tenderness towards humanity, for he was eminently a man who acted from right motives, and not from any feelings of impulse to relieve suffering or help his fellow-creatures.
In appearance he was tall, slender, and rather good-looking, with a thin, wrinkled face, scanty grey hair, and a darkish moustache. Well dressed in a quiet fashion, undemonstrative and distant in his manners, he embarrassed all with whom he came in contact; for the well-bred coldness of his voice, and the supercilious look in his grey eyes, and the noli-me-tangere of his behaviour made every one around him feel uncomfortable.
With Kaituna he was always as pleasant and agreeable as he was able to be, but his daughter felt that any pointed display of affection would be received with disapproval by her singular parent.
A man so straight-laced, so rigid in the due observance of all social duties, could not but be annoyed at the absence of his daughter's chaperon at a time when he was expected home. She was Kaituna's guardian in his absence, responsible for her in every way, and he was naturally anxious to see if Mr. Dombrain's choice was a good one.