Did she take it for granted that he knew this already? Was this spontaneous? Had Jack told her to do it?
These questions flashed through the old man's mind as his eyes rested on her pretty face.
He was beginning to be afraid of this girl: which showed his wisdom. For the maiden beautiful is a stronger power in the world than the strong man. The proof of which is that she gets her own way more often than the strong man gets his.
“From Africa?” repeated Sir John Meredith, with a twitching lip. “And from whom is your letter, my dear young lady?”
His face was quite still, his old eyes steady, as he waited for the answer.
“From Jack.”
Sir John winced inwardly. Outwardly he smiled and folded his newspaper upon his knees.
“Ah, from my brilliant son. That is interesting.”
“Have you had one?” she asked, in prompt payment of his sarcasm.
Sir John Meredith looked up with a queer little smile. He admired the girl's spirit. It was the smile of the fencer on touching worthy steel.