He lifted her into the carriage, and was at the point of entering himself, when the figure of Mrs. Crawford appeared among the palm plants.
“Good heavens, George! what is the meaning of this?” she said in a whisper.
“Go back!” cried Colonel Gerald sternly. “Go back! This is some more of your work. You shall never see my child again!”
He stepped into the carriage. The major's wife was left standing in the porch thunderstruck at such a reproach coming from the colonel. Was this the reward of her labour—to stand among the palms, listening to the passing away of the carriage wheels?
It was not until the Dutch cottage had been reached that Daireen, in the darkness of the room, laid her head upon her father's shoulder.
“Papa,” she whispered again, “take me home—let us go home together.”
“My darling, you are at home now.”
“No, papa, I don't mean that; I mean home—I home—Glenmara.”
“I will, Daireen: we shall go away from here. We shall be happy together in the old house.”
“Yes,” she said. “Happy—happy.”