Love stories; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
“Had you not better write to them and tell them not to mention it.”
“Good Gracious! Why you dear, old goose of a Daddy it is evident you
don’t know girls. That would be the very way to make things buzz. Oh
no! we’ll simply drop it; and they’ll soon forget it. I may have to
tell them something else, though, to draw them away from it.”
“Hm!” said her father. She looked at him with a sly archness:
“I suppose, Daddy, it wouldn’t do to have it that an Italian Grand
Duke proposed for me--to you of course!”
“Certainly not, Miss Impudence! I’m not to be drawn into any of your
foolish girls’ chatter. There, run away and let me smoke in peace!”
She turned away, but came back.
“Am I forgiven, Daddy?”
“Forgiven! Lord bless the child, why there’s nothing to forgive. I
only caution. I know well that my little girl is clear grit, straight
through; and I trust her as I do myself. Why Joy, darling” he put his
arm affectionately round her shoulder “you are my little girl! The
only one I have or ever shall have; and so, God willing, you shall be
to me to the end.”
“Thank you dear, dear Daddy. And I pray so too. I shall always be your
little girl to you and shall come to you to cheer you or to be
comforted myself. Mother has of late taken to treating me like a
grown-up which she always keeps firing off at me so that I don’t know
whether I am myself or not. But whatever I am to anyone else, I never
shall be anything to you but your ‘little girl!’”
And that compact was sealed then and there with a kiss.
Nine months later whilst Colonel Ogilvie was in the library of his own
house, “Air” in Airlville, Joy came in and closed the door carefully;
she came close and whispered:
“Am I still your little girl, Daddy?”
“Always my dear! always!”
“Then you don’t mind having a secret with me?”
“_Mind_ my dear! I love it. What is it you want to tell me?” She took
a folded newspaper from her pocket and handed it to him, saying:
“I came across this in the New York _Tribune_. Read it!” Colonel
Ogilvie turned it over with a rueful look as he said:
“The whole of it!”
“Oh Daddy, don’t be tiresome; of course not.” Her father’s face
brightened:
“Then you read what you want me to know. Your eyes are better than
mine!” Joy at once began to read:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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