She had a way with him that was sweeter to him even than Caroline's way. Caroline treated him as her chosen companion among all men, as he always had been so far, but she treated him as an equal, almost as a brother, though with a devotion not often shown by sisters to brothers. But Beatrix transformed herself into his little dog or slave. She behaved, without a trace of affectation, as if she were about six years old. She ran to fetch and carry for him, she tried to do things that he did, just as Bunting did, and laughed at herself for trying. Caroline often put her face up to his to be kissed, but Beatrix would take his hand, half-furtively, and kiss it softly or lay it to her cheek, or snuggle up to him with a little sigh of content, as if it were enough for her to be with him and adore him. This evening, by the pool at the edge of the park, where the grass was full of flowers and the grey aspens and heavy elms threw their shadows across the water and were reflected in its liquid depths, she was his gillie, and got so excited on the few occasions on which she had an opportunity of using the landing-net, that she got her skirt and shoes and stockings all covered with mud, just as if she were a child with no thought of clothes, instead of a young woman at the stage when they are of paramount importance. He was so happy with this manifestation of her, which of all her moods he loved the best, that the discomfort he had felt about her was assuaged. He did not even want to ask her questions. A confiding active child, behaving with the sexlessness of a small boy, she was so far removed from all the absorptions of love-making that it would have seemed almost unnatural to bring them to her mind. They strolled home very slowly, she carrying for him all he would allow her to carry and clinging to him closely, even making him put his arm round her shoulder, as she had done when she was little, so that she might put her arm around his waist. "It's lovely being with you, my old Daddywad," she said. Then she sang a little song which a nurse had taught her, and with the mistakes she had made in her babyhood, and with the nurse's intonation: "_I love Daddy, My dear Daddy, And I know vat 'e loves me; 'E's my blaymate, Raim or shine, Vere's not annover Daddy in er worl' like mine._" She laughed softly, and gave his substantial waist a squeeze. "You do like having me here, don't you, Daddy darling? You do miss me while I'm away?" "Of course I do," he said. "I should like you to be here always. But you enjoy yourself in London, don't you?" "Not half as much as I'm enjoying myself now," she said. It was just what Caroline had said. There was nobody either of them liked to be with so much as him. "When it's all over in July we'll stay here for a bit, won't we, Dad? Don't let's go abroad this year. I like this much better." "I don't want to go abroad," he said. "I expect somebody will want to take you to Cowes though."