He had had no reply to his second telegram, although he had given instructions that if one came it was to be wired on to him at the Bank. Supposing she didn't come! He had not yet heard from Lassigny; but if he had missed a post after Beatrix had written, his letter would not have reached Abington until the second post. But suppose Lassigny was travelling down with her! What he had been staving off all day, instinctively, was the ugly possibility of Beatrix defying his authority. It would mean a fight between them, and he would win the fight. But it would be the upsetting of all contentment in life, as long as it lasted, and it would so alter the relations between him and the child he loved that they would probably never be the same again. This possibility of Lassigny being with her now--of _his_ undertaking her defence against her father, and of her putting herself into his hands to act for her--had not actually occurred to him before. The idea of it angered him greatly, and stiffened him against her. There was no pleasure now in his anticipation of seeing her again. But he melted completely when he did see her. She and her maid were alone in their compartment, and she was standing at the door looking out eagerly for him. She jumped out at once and ran to him. "My darling old Daddy!" she said, with her arm round his neck. "You're an angel to come up and meet me, and I'm so pleased to see you. I suppose we're going to Cadogan Place to-night, aren't we?" Not a word was said between them of what they had come together for until they were sitting in the dining-room over a light supper. The maid, who was the children's old nurse, had been in the car with them. Beatrix had asked many questions about Abington, and had chattered about the moors, but had not mentioned Lassigny's name. If she had chattered even rather more than she would have done normally upon a similar meeting, it was the only sign of something else that was filling her mind. She had not been in the least nervous in manner, and her affection towards him was abundantly shown, and obviously not strained to please him. If his thoughts of her had been tinged with bitterness, she seemed to have escaped that feeling towards him. He supposed she had not understood his hostility towards her engagement. His telegram had only summoned her. It would make his task rather more difficult. But the relief of finding her still his loving child was greater than any other consideration. If he had taken refuge in bitter thoughts against her, he knew now how unsatisfying they were. He only wanted her love, and that had not been affected. He also wanted her happiness, and if it was to be his part to safeguard it for the future, by refusing her what she wanted in the present, it touched him now to think that his refusal must wound her. He had not allowed that consideration to affect him hitherto.