"Uncle Owen!" The tall figure of Sherbrand had moved away into the reddish twilight, and a wild desire of confession spurred on the girl to desperate frankness of speech. She hurried on, nerving herself to the change that would presently show in Saxham. "Uncle Owen! I think you had better know! Since I met _him_ in Paris I——"
"Stop!" said Saxham. But she would not stop. She had his blood in her, and went on, though to have set her naked foot on glowing iron would have been easier than to tell.
"I have flirted with him!—gone alone with him to restaurants and music-halls!—let him take me to the Upas!"—there was a tightness like knotted whipcord about her throat; "That’s—not the worst!"
"Who told?"—she faltered brokenly, and shivered at the deep stern whisper:
"No one told, but the reputation of the—man is known to me. His type does not hesitate where a woman’s virtue is concerned."
A great sigh burst from her. "And you can speak to me and touch me kindly—you don’t hate the sight of me?"
"How good!—" she began, broke off and said, shuddering: "But—Aunt Lynette! How could I bear it, if she were ever to know——"
"She shall not know! Who do you dream will tell her? Not I! So set your mind at rest, my girl. You are a girl—though you talk like a woman of thirty!"
She said with a miserable catch in her throat:
"Nineteen _is_ rather young, isn’t it? Perhaps things would have been different if only Dada had lived!"
The utterance was as inapposite as it was sentimental. If David had still been in existence his daughter would have had no less cause for regret. But Saxham, inwardly quivering and wrung with pity, could only acquiesce:
"Perhaps things would! What you have got to do now is—Forget! Do you hear me? I order you, and I will be obeyed! And I will have you leave this titled lady who employs you, and who is all kindness and no discretion. Resign your post to-morrow! You need not return to your mother. My house is your home!" He went on in his rare tone of tenderness, "You need no telling that I care for you as a daughter. Come to me, and to Lynette who loves you dearly. She will want comfort—now that—" His voice broke and his mouth twisted. He fought with his anguish, in silence, turning his grim white face away.