His anger, however, was only checked in mid-volley. The idea of her having received a clandestine visit from her lover during his absence rankled at his heart; and although satisfied that she was still safe, and in his power, he could barely restrain his temper within moderate limits. Nay, he felt angry at her for the alarm she had occasioned him, and the passion he had felt at her absence.
“Well, Lucy,” said he, addressing her, as she entered, in a voice chafed with passion, “have you taken your drive?”
“Yes, papa,” she replied; “but it threatened rain, and we returned earlier that usual.”
“You look pale.”
“I dare say I do, sir. I want rest—repose;” and she reclined on a lounger as she spoke. “It is surprising, papa, how weak I am!”
“Not too weak, Lucy, to receive a stolen visit, eh?”
Lucy immediately sat up, and replied with surprise, “A stolen visit, sir? I don't understand you, papa.”
“Had you not a visitor here, in my absence?”
“I had, sir, but the visit was intended for you. Our interview was perfectly accidental.”
“Ah! faith, Lucy, it was too well timed to be accidental. I'm not such a fool as that comes to. Accidental, indeed! Lucy, you should not say so.”