“Run, Connie,” said Miss Wade, my governess, for I was delaying a moment to finish a line; a bad habit of mine was want of prompt obedience; “run at once, Dr Percy has no time to spare.”
She spoke rather sharply, and I got up.
“Yes, papa,” I said as I opened the door, rather affecting deliberateness till out of Miss Wade’s sight (I have told you that I had been “going back” lately in several ways.) “Yes, papa, I am here.”
I moved quickly once I got into the hall. Papa was standing there, booted and spurred—how nice and big and manly he looked!—for he had been riding. But his face had a strange expression; he looked stern and yet upset. Under his rather sunburnt bronzed complexion, I could see an unusual flush of excitement.
“Is anything the matter?” I asked, startled, I scarcely knew why. “Addie Whyte isn’t worse?”
“No, no, nothing like that. But I want you at once, Connie,”—he had begun to speak rather impatiently, but his tone softened as he saw that I looked frightened. “You needn’t look so terrified, my dear. It is nothing—only—only a little misapprehension which you will be able to set right at once. I want you to come with me to Lady Honor’s. I have ordered the carriage; it will be round in an instant. Run and put your things on, something warm; it is very cold.”
“But papa,” I began, “won’t you tell—”
“No, my dear, I can’t explain. You will see for yourself that it is better not I will tell Miss Wade that you cannot have any more lessons this afternoon, and I have already told mamma that I want you. Be quick, dear.”
In five minutes I was seated beside papa in the brougham. He drew the soft, warm fur rug over me tenderly, and put his arm round me.
“Why are you trembling so, Connie?” he said. “You have done nothing wrong—what are you so frightened about?”