"Lady Carrington has asked me to stay here, and I should like to do it," I replied; "I am not going to wear any of the clothes _she_ bought--no, not one, not one! But if you would come to see me to-morrow evening, perhaps we might have one long, last chat together. That is what I really wanted to ask you. Will you promise me, Dad?" "Dear me, how afflicting!" said my father. "How afflicting and sentimental and unnecessary--and after all I have lived through! I didn't know you'd grow up that sort of child; you were such a jolly little thing when I took you down to your aunt. It's your aunt who has spoilt you. You can stay here, of course, if you prefer this house to the Westminster. Helen won't like it; she has got a box for us at the opera to-night." "I can't go," I said. "Very well. She would hate to see a dismal child, and your clothes won't be ready for a day or two--at least, most of them--so perhaps you had better stay here. I'll just go and speak to Lady Carrington." Father left the room. By and by Lady Carrington came back alone. "They've gone, dear," she said, "and I have made arrangements with Major Grayson that you are to stay with us during the honeymoon, so that altogether you will be with us for quite a month, my child. Now, during that month I want you to be happy and to make the best of things. Do you hear me?" "Yes. I think I shall be happy with you. But oh! I have got a blow--I have got a blow!" I said. CHAPTER VII Father did not come to see me on Saturday night, although I hoped against hope that he would do so, but, to my great surprise, on Sunday evening he walked in, just as Lady Carrington was preparing to go out to evening service. I had refused to accompany her--I am afraid I made myself unpleasant to my kind friend on that occasion. I was overcome by the shock I had received, and this fresh and most unexpected parting from father, so that I could only centre my thoughts on myself. Father bustled into the house, and I heard his cheerful voice in the hall. "Hallo!" he said. "And how is the little woman?" Lady Carrington dropped her voice to a whisper, and father began to talk in low tones. Then they both approached the room where I was lying on a sofa by the fire. I was feeling cold and chilled, and the little colour I had ever boasted of in my face had completely left me. Now, as I heard steps coming nearer and nearer, my heart beat in a most tumultuous fashion. Then father and Lady Carrington entered the room. "Heather, here's your father," said my kindest friend. "Sir John and I are going to church, so you will have him quite to yourself. Now, cheer up, dear. By the way, Major Grayson, won't you stay and have supper with us afterwards?" "Will Carbury be here?" asked my father suddenly. "Yes, I think so. We asked him to come."