He tilted her pretty face up to his again and kissed her. Nevil would like to have killed all his wife’s cares with a caress. It is not always a successful method, but it is more efficacious than the world believes.
“Of course I know all that, though Patricia always seems quite like my own sister. I do hope Christopher won’t tease her.” 50
“Aymer will see to that.”
“Not unless he is reminded. You know he rather loves teasing the poor darling himself.”
“Here is the poor darling, herself. Storm over, I suppose, sky serene.”
The little girl coming down the path to them was barely twelve, but she looked older. The features were too set, if anything, too regular for her to be called pretty as yet, but an observer must have been very blind to beauty not to see the possibilities shadowed in her face. She had quantities of smooth gold hair, one plait of which, for convenience’s sake, was twisted round her little head that was at present too small for its rich burden. Her great dark grey eyes and long lashes had a curiously expectant look as if ever on the watch for some joy or pain to come. In the clearness of her complexion and the good modelling of her little white hands, she did resemble her half-sister, but it was the only likeness between them. She came to them not running, as a child should, but slowly and deliberately.
“Patricia, do come and hear what this dreadful Nevil has let Charlotte do,” cried Renata, still under shelter of her husband’s long arm. For some reason she seemed anxious to let the child know she was seen and wanted. Nevil smiled and made room on the seat for her to sit by his side.
Patricia stood in front of them, her great pathetic eyes looking from one to the other. She finally addressed herself to Nevil.
“I’m ever so sorry, Nevil,” she said with a dejected sigh.
“Of course, of course, it’s all right, child,” he answered hastily, “come and hear my short-comings. I’m in deep disgrace.”