“Father!” cried Dinah wildly.
“Hush, my pet. Nervous again: I can feel your heart beating. Why, of course I must go some day. And now this Clive Reed has somehow got hold of my confidence as well as yours. I trust him, you see, just as you do, my darling, and—and, Dinah, he’s a fine fellow, a fine, true-hearted, manly fellow, and—and I won’t be a miserable, selfish old man, but happy and contented, and glad that my darling’s choice has fallen upon so genuine a man. There! do you hear, my pet? I am heartily glad, for I like him. God bless him! God bless you both!”
The arms clung more tightly round the Major’s neck, and a shower of kisses fell upon his cheeks and lips.
“It’s quite right, Di—quite right. You are growing strong and well again. He has done you good. There is no reason whatever why you should not love him, and make him the best of wives.”
Dinah’s arms relaxed a little, and her cheeks, which had begun to flush, once more turned deadly pale.
“There is no just cause or impediment why you should not love him and be loved. But not yet, Di, not yet.”
The Major did not see the frightened look at that moment as it intensified in his daughter’s eyes, but he did directly after as the dog’s chain was heard to rattle and it burst into a furious baying.
“Confound it! there must be some one about,” said the Major angrily. “There, there! don’t turn white like that.”
“No, no, don’t, don’t go,” whispered Dinah, clinging to him.
“Not go? Why, you little coward, I must go. Where’s my stick? It’s one of those mining scamps.” Dinah shuddered.