"It's the only way to take life," her father answered, a trifle sadly.
Pansy rubbed a soft cheek against his in silent sympathy.
She loved and understood her quiet, indulgent father more than ever. But the dead girl he still grieved for was only a misty memory to his child.
"Yes, Daddy, I've learnt that too," she said. "It's no use grousing about things. It's far better to laugh in the teeth of Fate."
George Barclay's arm went round his daughter.
She had followed out her own precepts, this brave, bright girl of his.
As she went about his camp, no one would have guessed her life was a tragedy. And even he knew no more than she had told him on her unexpected return from Grand Canary.
She was fighting her battle alone, as he in past years had fought his, in her own unselfish way, refusing to let her shadows fall on those about her.