“There, there, there! don’t be alarmed, I shall not get out of temper with Crampton now. That will keep.”
“Then you will go—now?”
“Yes,” he said decidedly; “I cannot sit here.”
“But you hardly tasted your dinner. Let me get you some tea first.”
“My dear child, I can touch nothing; and pray don’t oppose me. I am in such a state of nervous irritation that if you do I am sure I shall say something unkind, and then I shall be more upset than I am now.”
“I am not afraid,” said Louise, hanging on his shoulder for a few moments, and then kissing his wrinkled, careworn brow.
“Thank you, my darling, thank you. You will not mind being left? Harry ought to be here.”
“Oh, no, dear; but you will come back soon and tell me all. Harry will be here before then.”
“Of course, my dear, of course.”
“And you will give my dear love to Madelaine,” Louise cried, as her father moved away from the door.