She led him on to talk of the surface facts of the engagement. The marriage would take place, and it was well for him that he thought as he did about it. She had wondered if he would see, as she thought she saw, that Beatrix was fixing her own mind upon those surface facts, and what his wisdom would make of her chance of happiness if she had not brought the deep love that she had it in her to bring to her betrothal. But he had not seen it, though what he was pleased with in her confidences to him only confirmed Caroline's own mistrust. The rhapsodies that she had dispensed him from listening to would surely have been sounded if the impulse towards them had been there. She would have asked for his loving sympathy in what filled her own mind, and shown her love for him in asking for it just as much as by assuring him of that love. But she was glad for his sake that he had seen nothing. She kissed him good-night, and said: "When B goes there'll only be you and me, Daddy, till Barbara comes home. I shan't leave you for a long time yet." CHAPTER XII CAROLINE AND BEATRIX It was nearly twelve o'clock when Caroline went up to her room. Her mind was calmed by her talk with her father. She loved him so much that his contentment could hardly fail of some reflection in her. And, though jealousy was far removed from her, it gave her pleasure to think that when Beatrix had left him he would need her love and companionship more. Perhaps it was, as he had said, she was feeling hurt that Beatrix had not come to her for the deep love and sympathy that was there for her in her joys as well as in her troubles. Although her sympathies had not been undivided in that trouble of a year ago, for she had believed that her father had been right and had felt for him during a period of something like estrangement as much as she had felt for Beatrix in being parted from her lover, still her heart had beaten much closer to her sister's then than it did now. Beatrix had leant upon her. She had been wayward; perhaps she had even been selfish. She had often hurt Caroline, when the hurt in herself had made her hard and unreasonable towards all but the one who could then have assuaged it. But Caroline had gone through it all with her, and loved her all the more for having shared her pain. It was rather hard if she was to be held at arm's length now, after having given so much, and being ready to give so much. Her sadness came upon her again when she had shut herself into her room and made ready for bed. She heard her father go upstairs, and the house became quite still. The clock of the church began to strike, and the clock on the stable turret chimed in on a fainter, quicker note. Before they had finished, the door of her room opened and startled her wildly. It was Beatrix, who came in, a figure all in white, and threw herself into her arms, and clung to her sobbing.