“I expect I’d forgotten,” Hugh answered.  She looked so reproachful, that not for the world would he have denied all knowledge of Angel.  The child evidently took him for someone she had known; perhaps she had seen a photograph of some long lost friend of her family, who resembled him, and she had sprung to a conclusion, as children do.  But she was an exquisitely pretty and engaging little thing, a grand little pal, and worth cultivating.  Hugh liked children, especially girls, though he had always been rather shy with them, not knowing exactly how they liked best to be entertained, and finding it difficult to think of things to say, in keeping up a conversation.  But there was no such difficulty with this child.  It was really interesting to draw the little creature out, and see what she would say next.  As for finding Angel, however, when the time came to do that, he thought he would prefer to bid Angel’s daughter goodbye at the door.  He had no fancy for scraping up an acquaintance with strangers through their children.

[Illustration:  CHAPTER SIX]

FAIRY FATHERS MUST VANISH

[Illustration:  R]

Rosemary sat in silence for a few moments, taking in the full meaning of her companion’s answer to her last question.  He had forgotten that Angel was Angel!  Though she was warmly wrapped in a soft rug of silvery fur, a chill crept into her heart.  Could it be that Nurse’s words about father had been true, after all; and if they were, was she doing harm, rather than good, in bringing him home?

Presently Hugh waked out of his own thoughts, and noticed the little girl’s silence.

“You’re not afraid?” he asked, blissfully unconscious of offence.  “I’m not driving too fast to please you?”

“Oh no,” said Rosemary.

“You’re not cold?”

“No, thank you.”

“Nor tired?”

“No, not tired.”

“But something is the matter?”

“I’m worrying,” confessed the child.

“What about, little one?”

“I’m not sure if I ought to have spoken to you, or have come with you, after all.”

To save his life, Hugh could not have helped laughing, though it was evidently a matter of serious importance.  “What, do you think we ought to have a chaperon?” he asked.  “Paul’s in the tonneau, you know; and he’s a most discreet chap.”

“I don’t know what a chaperon is,” said Rosemary.  “But will you promise not to be angry if I ask you something, and will you promise to answer, honour bright?”

“Yes, to both your questions.”

“Were you really unkind to Angel, before you were lost?”

This was a hard nut to crack, if his past were not to be ruthlessly severed from Angel’s by a word.  He thought for a moment, and then said, “Honour bright, I can’t remember anything unkind I ever did to her.”

“Oh, I’m so glad.  I was afraid, when you said you’d forgotten—­but maybe her name wasn’t Angel, then?”