stopped and looked back. The two were standing where he had left
them.
CHAPTER XVI
A MARRIAGE ARRANGED
Neither Molly nor her father had moved or spoken while Jimmy was
covering the short strip of turf that ended at the stone steps of
the house. McEachern stood looking down at her in grim silence. His
great body against the dark mass of the castle wall seemed larger
than ever in the uncertain light. To Molly, there was something
sinister and menacing in his attitude. She found herself longing
that Jimmy would come back. She was frightened. Why, she could not
have said. It was as if some instinct told her that a crisis in her
affairs had been reached, and that she needed him. For the first
time in her life, she felt nervous in her father’s company. Ever
since she was a child, she had been accustomed to look upon him as
her protector; hut, now, she was afraid.
“Father!” she cried.
“What are you doing out here?”
His voice was tense and strained.
“I came out because I wanted to think, father, dear.”
She thought she knew his moods, but this was one that she had never
seen. It frightened her.
“Why did he come out here?”
“Mr. Pitt? He brought me a wrap.”
“What was he saying to you?”
The rain of questions gave Molly a sensation of being battered. She
felt dazed, and a little mutinous. What had she done that she should
be assailed like this?
“He was saying nothing,” she said, rather shortly.
“Nothing? What do you mean? What was he saying? Tell me!”
Molly’s voice shook as she replied.
“He was saying nothing,” she repeated. “Do you think I’m not telling
the truth, father? He had not spoken a word for ever so long. We
just walked up and down. I was thinking, and I suppose he was, too.
At any rate, he said nothing. I–I think you might believe me.”
She began to cry quietly. Her father had never been like this
before. It hurt her.
McEachern’s manner changed in a flash. In the shock of finding Jimmy
and Molly together on the terrace, he had forgotten himself. He had
had reason, to be suspicious. Sir Thomas Blunt, from whom he had
just parted, had told him a certain piece of news which had
disturbed him. The discovery of Jimmy with Molly had lent an added
significance to that piece of news. He saw that he had been rough.
In a moment, he was by her side, his great arm round her shoulder,
petting and comforting her as he had done when she was a child. He
believed her word without question; and his relief made him very
tender. Gradually, the sobs ceased. She leaned against his arm.
“I’m tired, father,” she whispered.
“Poor little girl. We’ll sit down.”
There was a seat at the end of the terrace. McEachern picked Molly
up as if she had been a baby, and carried her to it. She gave a
little cry.
“I didn’t mean I was too tired to walk,” she said, laughing
tremulously. “How strong you are, father! If I was naughty, you
could take me up and shake me till I was good, couldn’t you?”
“Of course. And send you to bed, too. So, you, be careful, young
woman.”
He lowered her to the seat. Molly drew the cloak closer round her,
and shivered.
“Cold, dear?”
“No.”
“You shivered.”
“It was nothing. Yes, it was,” she went on quickly; “it was. Father,
will you promise me something?”
“Of course. What?”
“Don’t ever be angry with me like that again, will you? I couldn’t
bear it. Really, I couldn’t. I know it’s stupid of me, but it hurt.
You don’t know how it hurt.”
“But, my dear–”
“Oh, I know it’s stupid. But–”
“But, my darling, it wasn’t so. I was angry, but it wasn’t with
you.”
“With–? Were you angry with Mr. Pitt?”
McEachern saw that he had traveled too far. He had intended that
Jimmy’s existence should be forgotten for the time being. He had
other things to discuss. But it was too late now. He must go
forward.
“I didn’t like to see you out here alone with Mr. Pitt, dear,” he