'What a sad song, my darling! I should like to hear something more cheerful,' whispered Cyril, as she finished.
But she did not seem to hear him; she rose from her seat and crossed the room to the corner where Dr. Ross was sitting.
'That is your favourite song, daddy,' she said, leaning over him.
And as he smiled and nodded, she sat down on the low chair beside him and looked thoughtfully into the fire.
She roused herself presently to bid Cyril good-bye, and to linger a moment with him at the door in the starlight.
'I shall not see you until luncheon to-morrow, unless you pass the window,' he said, with the egotism common to lovers. 'You will think of me until then, will you not, dear?'
'Of course I shall think of you,' returned Audrey, with her usual gentleness.
But she seemed to wonder a little at the sudden passion with which Cyril clasped her to him.
'Good-night, Cyril dear. I shall be very busy all the morning writing letters; but we can have the walk you propose after four.'
And then she went back to her seat and leant her cheek against her father's arm, as she looked into the fire again.