“I think, he's been a simply perfect father, so long as I can remember.”
“Yes,” answered Jon, very subdued.
“He's never interfered, and he's always seemed to understand. I shall never forget his letting me go to South Africa in the Boer War when I was in love with Val.”
“That was before he married Mother, wasn't it?” said Jon suddenly.
“Yes. Why?”
“Oh! nothing. Only, wasn't she engaged to Fleur's father first?”
Holly put down the spoon she was using, and raised her eyes. Her stare was circumspect. What did the boy know? Enough to make it better to tell him? She could not decide. He looked strained and worried, altogether older, but that might be the sunstroke.
“There was something,” she said. “Of course we were out there, and got no news of anything.” She could not take the risk.
It was not her secret. Besides, she was in the dark about his feelings now. Before Spain she had made sure he was in love; but boys were boys; that was seven weeks ago, and all Spain between.
She saw that he knew she was putting him off, and added: