They went together into the drawing-room, arm-in-arm. Sir Henry advanced straight to his daughter.
"What am I to say to you, Lucy? He has been talking secrets."
She looked up, like a startled fawn. But a glimpse at Lionel's face reassured her, bringing the roses into her cheeks. Lady Verner, wondering, gazed at them in amazement, and Lucy hid her hot cheeks on her father's breast.
"Am I to scold you? Falling in love without my permission!"
The tone, the loving arm wound round her, brought to her confidence. She could almost afford to be saucy.
"Don't be angry, papa!" were her whispered words. "It might have been worse."
"Worse!" returned Sir Henry, trying to get a look at her face. "You independent child! How could it have been worse?"
"It might have been Jan, you know, papa."
And Sir Henry Tempest burst into an irrepressible laugh as he sat down.