"Yes."
"Did he say whom?"
"I do not know."
"Perhaps Meryl knew?"
"She did not say."
She kissed his hand again, and asked in low tones, "Why was she crying when she came out of the study? She ... she ... is not sorry about things?..."
"No; she is glad. She sees she made a mistake."
"Then why was she crying?"
She saw him flinch, and read in his face all the pain in his heart. Evidently he knew of that hidden sorrow shadowing his child's life; evidently her sorrow was his sorrow. The wedding he so dreaded was safely prevented, but would the happiness come back?... the happiness that had been in that household before they went to Rhodesia? Could all his love and hope and tenderness bring back joy to the eyes that were his heaven and his earth?
"Dearie," murmured Diana again, "was she crying because of that big soldier-policeman up north?"