‘Of course I will.’

Nevertheless, Margaret thought that Lady Maud might have given her a little information about the ‘matter of business’ which had involved such a large sum of money, and had produced such important consequences.

CHAPTER XI

Mr. Van Torp was walking slowly down the Elm Walk in the park at Oxley Paddox.  The ancient trees were not in full leaf yet, but there were myriads of tiny green feather points all over the rough brown branches and the smoother twigs, and their soft colour tinted the luminous spring air.  High overhead all sorts and conditions of little birds were chirping and trilling and chattering together and by turns, and on the ground the sparrows were excessively busy and talkative, while the squirrels made wild dashes across the open, and stopped suddenly to sit bolt upright and look about them, and then dashed on again.

Little Ida walked beside the millionaire in silence, trustfully holding one of his hands, and as she watched the sparrows she tried to make out what sort of sound they could be making when they hopped forward and opened their bills so wide that she could distinctly see their little tongues.  Mr. Van Torp’s other hand held a newspaper, and he was reading the article about himself which Margaret had shown to Lady Maud.  He did not take that particular paper, but a marked copy had been sent to him, and in due course had been ironed and laid on the breakfast-table with those that came regularly.  The article was marked in red pencil.

He read it slowly with a perfectly blank expression, as if it concerned some one he did not know.  Once only, when he came upon the allusion to the little girl, his eyes left the page and glanced quietly down at the large red felt hat with its knot of ribbands that moved along beside him, and hid all the child’s face except the delicate chin and the corner of the pathetic little mouth.  She did not know that he looked down at her, for she was intent on the sparrows, and he went back to the article and read to the end.

Then, in order to fold the paper, he gently let go of Ida’s hand, and she looked up into his face.  He did not speak, but his lips moved a little as he doubled the sheet to put it into his pocket; and instantly the child’s expression changed, and she looked hurt and frightened, and stretched up her hand quickly to cover his mouth, as if to hide the words his lips were silently forming.

‘Please, please!’ she said, in her slightly monotonous voice.  ’You promised me you wouldn’t any more!’

‘Quite right, my dear,’ answered Mr. Van Torp, smiling, ’and I apologise.  You must make me pay a forfeit every time I do it.  What shall the forfeit be?  Chocolates?’

She watched his lips, and understood as well as if she had heard.

‘No,’ she answered demurely.  ’You mustn’t laugh.  When I’ve done anything wicked and am sorry, I say the little prayer Miss More taught me.  Perhaps you’d better learn it too.’