He looked down into her quivering face, saw the pleading eyes swimming in tears, and abruptly found that his displeasure had evaporated so completely that he could not even pretend to be angry any longer. He had never taken much notice of Dinah before, treating her, as did his wife and daughter, as a mere child and of no account. But now he suddenly realized that she was an engaging minx after all.
"Ashamed of yourself?" he asked gruffly, his white moustache twitching a little.
Dinah nodded mutely.
"Then don't do it again!" he said, and grasped the little brown hand for a moment with quite unwonted kindness.
It was a tacit forgiveness, and as such Dinah treated it. She smiled thankfully through her tears, and slipped away to recover her composure.
Nearly an hour later, Scott, having finished his letters, came upon her sitting somewhat disconsolately in the verandah. He paused on his way out.
"Good morning, Miss Bathurst! Aren't you going to skate this morning?"
She turned to him with a little movement of pleasure. "Good morning, Mr. Studley! I have been waiting here for you. I have brought down your sister's trinkets. Here they are!" She held out a neat little paper parcel to him. "Please will you thank her again for them very, very much? I do hope she didn't think me very rude last night,--though I'm afraid I was."
Her look was wistful. He took the packet from her with a smile.
"Of course she didn't. She was delighted with you. When are you coming to see her again?"
"I don't know," said Dinah.
"Come to tea!" suggested Scott.
Dinah hesitated, flushing.
"You've something else to do?" he asked in his cheery way. "Well, come another time if it won't bore you!"
"Oh, it isn't that!" said Dinah, and her flush deepened. "I--I would love to come. Only--" She glanced round at an elderly couple who had just come out, and stopped.
"I'm going down to the village with my letters," said Scott. "Will you come too?"
She welcomed the idea. "Oh yes, I should like to. It's such a glorious morning again, isn't it? It's a shame not to go out."
"Sure you're not wanting to skate?" he questioned.
"Yes, quite sure. I--I'm rather tired this morning, but a walk will do me good."
They passed the rink without pausing, though Scott glanced across to see his brother skimming along in the distance with a red-clad figure beside him. He made no comment upon the sight, and Dinah was silent also. Her gay animation that morning was wholly a minus quantity.