I laid my head on his shoulder and began to sob.
"I can't live without you," I whispered, and I pressed my lips to his rough cheek and kissed him. He put his arm round me very firmly.
"You will live and be very happy, little girl. And now, look here; I could not leave our house in Hanbury Square until Helen was asleep, then I thought I'd come round and have a talk with you. When she wakens she must be told that you are not going to do anything. She will drop you out of her life, Heather, and so much the better—yes, so much the better. I can get a promise out of her that I shall come and see you now and again, and when I do come I can assure you, my two dear young people, I shall be as jolly as a sand-boy; you won't have anything to complain of on that score. But while I'm here I'll just hold to the bargain I made long years ago."
"Oh, father, father!" I said. "Why did you make it? Why did you do it? Why did you sacrifice yourself for her and for that man?"
"Hush, child! You can't read all a man's motives. At that time I—I really cared for Lady Helen. Not, perhaps, Heather, as I loved your mother, but I was fond of her, undoubtedly; and if this trouble had never come I should probably have married her. She loved me too. I'll tell you one or two things I left out the other day. I had proposed to her long before that fearful scandal came to our ears in connection with her brother. She had refused me. I had begged and prayed her to be my wife, but she had firmly refused. Then I got into debt; I always was an extravagant slap-dash sort of person. I was very unhappy, and I brought you back to England—you remember that time, don't you, little woman?"
"Oh, yes," I said, trying to bring my thoughts back to the distant past.
"She wanted me to do so. She thought it very bad to have a child as old as you in India. I settled with your aunt to keep you. My debts haunted me and although Lady Helen refused to marry me, she lent me money to pay my debts. I went back to India, and then the thunderclap came. Lady Helen's brother would undoubtedly have been arrested if I had not thrown myself into the breach. I thought out a plan very quickly; I liked Helen and I pitied her, and I did not think my own life worth saving. I went to Helen and told her that I could put the officers of justice off the scent and get the crime fastened on myself, and I would do so on condition that she married me when I came out of prison. She agreed, and there we are. Now, my dear Heather, as that's the story, I could not go back from my bargain now."
"It was a very bad bargain for you," I could not help saying. I trembled very much, and the tears rolled down my cheeks.
"But we must keep our bargains, whether they are good or bad, Heather," whispered my father to me. "That is the law of life: as we sow we shall reap. And I am not altogether unhappy, not since this good fellow has found out the truth and I am cleared in his eyes, and in the eyes of you, my child, and in my sister-in-law's eyes. Nothing else greatly matters. Heather, you are in the morning of your days, I am in the evening of life. When we come to the evening of life nothing concerns us, except so to live that we may fear God and do His commandments, and so fulfil the duty of man. That's about all, child. I am more grateful to you than I can say, and more than grateful to you, Carbury. Give poor dear Pen my love when she wakes, and tell her that it is quite all right—yes, quite all right. I am in the evening of life, and I will do my duty worthily to the very end."
As father said the last words he got up. He took me in his arms and kissed me; there was a solemnity about his kiss, and his dear, bright blue eyes looked softer than I had seen them for a long time.