But Bayre took a different view.
“Surely your father will come back for you?” he suggested.
The girl answered promptly,—
“Oh, he’s not my father—he’s no relation—at least—”
And there, tantalisingly, she stopped.
For no reason in particular, certainly no reason they could have given in words, both the young men felt relieved.
“I—I beg your pardon,” said Repton. “I might have known you wouldn’t have a father like that.”
Again the girl glanced, rather apprehensively, if rather mischievously, at the other man.
“If I’m not mistaken,” said she, slowly, “he is a relation of yours.”
Then she paused a moment, and seeing a sort of acknowledgment on the young man’s face, she added abruptly,—