My father was standing with his profile towards me; he was looking at a newspaper, and I think, just for a second, he was rather shy, although I could not be sure. Lady Helen, however, made up for any awkwardness on his part. She rushed at me and clasped me in her arms. "Dear little daughter!" she said. "Now you know everything; in future you will be my own little daughter. Think what a splendid time we'll have together! Why, I'll take you everywhere--you won't know yourself. Just tell her, Gordon, what a right good time she'll have with me." "Jove! I should think so," said my father. I struggled out of her arms. If I had remained in that hateful embrace for another moment I might have slapped her. I flung myself on father's neck, and kissed him many times, and then, all of a sudden, I began to whisper in his ear. "Eh, eh? What, what?" he said. "Child, you're tickling me. Oh, you want to speak to me alone! Helen, you won't mind?" "No, dear, I won't mind." Lady Helen looked at me out of those strange dark eyes of hers. Her face was brimming all over with good humour, but I know she was not pleased with me at that moment. I had repulsed her advances, and now I was taking father away. "Here is a little room," said Lady Carrington, "you can both have it to yourselves." She opened a door, and father and I entered. The moment we were alone I ceased to whisper and stood before father, just a little way off, but at the same time so close that he could see me well. "I have heard the news, Dad," I said. "Well, and isn't it just rippin'?" he said. "Don't you congratulate me--I, a poor beggar--to get a wife like that, and you--a mother like that!" "She will never be my mother, father, if you marry her a hundred times." "Come, come, that is so _bourgeoise_, that kind of speech is so completely out of date; but Helen will explain to you. Now, what is it you want, little Heather? I'm sure Helen has spent enough money on your little person to satisfy you for one morning." "Was it her own money she spent?" I asked. "Gracious, child!" cried my father. "What other money could she spend?" "Why, yours--I thought it was yours," I said, with a sob. "Mine!" he said. "I haven't a stiver in the world to bless myself with. But there, I am a rich man for all that. Helen is rich, and what is hers is mine, and she's going to do the right thing by you, Heather--the right thing by you." "Daddy," I said, very slowly, "I waited for you during all the years while I was growing up, and yesterday I found you again--or rather, I ought to say a few days ago, when you came to see me at Hill View, and now again I have lost you." "_Bourgeoise, bourgeoise_," muttered my father; "those words are Penelope's words. She'd be sure to speak to you like that."