Captain Caldwell closed his eyes. He felt that he was beginning to make this child's acquaintance, and wished he had tried to cultivate it sooner.
"You shall not be whipped to-night, Beth," he said presently, looking at her with a kindly smile.
Instantly an answering smile gleamed on the child's face, transfiguring her; and, by the light of it, her father realised how seldom he had seen her smile.
Unfortunately for Beth, however, while her countenance was still irradiated, her mother swooped down upon her. Mrs. Caldwell had come hurrying home in a rage in search of Beth; and now, mistaking that smile for a sign of defiance, she seized upon her, and had beaten her severely before it was possible to interfere. Beth, dazed by this sudden onslaught, staggered when she let her go, and stretched out her little hands as if groping for some support.
"It wasn't your fault!—it wasn't your fault!" she gasped, her first instinct being to exonerate her father.
Captain Caldwell had started up and caught his wife by the arm.
"That's enough," he said harshly. "You are going altogether the wrong way to work with the child. Let this be the last time, do you understand? Beth, go to the nursery, and ask Anne to get you some tea." A sharp pain shot through his head. He had jumped up too quickly, and now fell back on the sofa with a groan.
"Oh, let me brush it again," Beth cried, in an agony of sympathy.
Her father opened his haggard eyes and smiled.
"Go to the nursery, like a good child," he said, "and get some tea."