‘Do not come, then!’ I interrupted. I could not help glancing at Winny, who looked as much astonished as frightened at hearing me speak like this, for I am not a rude man in general.
‘I am sorry to hear you say so,’ continued Mr Harleston. ‘It is my fault, not Winny’s, that we have not called on you long before. I have only waited to see some serious business settled which has troubled me a great deal. Yet now I think I was wrong. Let me walk home with you now.’
‘No!’ I said sternly—‘no, sir! I shall take my daughter home; and as I wish to have no further argument in the street, I shall bid you good-night.’
The tears, which had been standing in Winny’s eyes, had now overflowed, and were trickling down her cheeks. My heart ached as I saw this; but I grew angry, too, at seeing her, instead of at once joining me, turn her pale face to him with an inquiring look, as though asking permission—asking permission of him to obey her father!
‘Yes, Winny dear,’ he said gently, ‘you had better go. Your father does not understand all, and is naturally hurt; but I will see him to-morrow. Keep up a good heart, dearest!’ And with that he bent his head and kissed her, she lifting her face without the least shyness or shame.
I took her arm, and without another word, led her away. I hailed an omnibus, and we got in. I did this on purpose that there might be no opportunity for argument or pleading until we reached home. When we did so, I quickly lit the gas, drew down the blinds, and so forth; while Winny, having taken off her bonnet and pelisse, stood as pale and motionless as a statue, leaning on the table in the middle of the room.
I never felt a greater difficulty in speaking than I did then; not only was my voice hoarse, but my throat seemed blocked; however, it had to be done. ‘Winifred,’ I said, ‘I could not have believed it possible that you would have had an acquaintance unknown to me—and such an acquaintance! A man who’—— I could not help hesitating here—what I had to say was so dreadfully unpleasant.
‘Father!’ cried Winny—her voice was low but distinct; it was firmer than mine—‘Mr Godfrey Harleston is at least a friend of whom I need not be ashamed. I am not ashamed of him!’
‘Poor silly girl!’ I exclaimed; ‘you will be only too soon’——
‘Never!’ she interrupted, in the same low firm tone.