“Yes, my dear. I’m glad of it myself. And you—why, Aunt Anna, she looks like a robin-redbreast—as brisk and fresh as can be! Not at all as if she had been dancing till I don’t know what o’clock.”
“Gaiety suits her apparently,” said Lady Cheynes smiling. She was delighted to see the beginning of a better understanding between the father and child,—“and she was a very good girl, Marcus; I must do justice to her. She stopped dancing,—though she owned that her partner was most attractive—resolutely, when the time came for us to leave, and neither by word or look hinted at wishing to stay longer.”
“That’s right,” said Ella’s father approvingly. “And what news of Philip, aunt? Will he be turning up soon?”
“I expect to find him at Cheynesacre when I get back there this afternoon,” said the old lady.
Colonel St Quentin brightened up still more.
“Indeed! I am very glad to hear it. We must try to have a cheerful Christmas—Ella’s first among us too—” Ella smiled with gratification—“Madelene and Ermie will be delighted to hear Philip is back. You will be able to wait to see them this afternoon?”
Lady Cheynes hesitated.
“I fear not,” she said, “the days are so very short now.”
“And Phil arriving. Ah well—tell him to come over soon.”
Ella left her father and his aunt to themselves again after luncheon, but apparently they had not much more to say to each other, for she was soon sent for to bid Lady Cheynes good-bye.