"
Nan's arm was around his neck as he ended, her cheek against his
forehead.
"Dear, dear daddy, don't think I'm cross with you. You're just the
sweetest old darling in the world, and I'd go to Kamschatka with you
gladly--in fact, anywhere--anywhere--except South Africa. Can't we go
somewhere together, just you and I? Let's go to Jamaica. I'm sure I can
afford it."
"No, no, no!" protested the Colonel. "Get away with you, you baggage!
What are you thinking of? Miss the cubbing season? Not I. And not you
either, if I know you. There! Run along to bed, and take my blessing with
you. I'll send a line to Piet, if you like, and tell him you don't object
to waiting for him a bit longer under your old father's roof. Come, be
off with you! I'm going to lock up."
He hoisted himself out of his chair with the words, looked at her fondly
for a moment, took her pretty face between his hands, and kissed her
twice.
"She's the worst pickle of the lot," he declared softly.
He did not add that she was also his darling of them all, but this was a
perfectly open secret between them, and had been such as long as Nan
could remember. She laughed up at him with tender impudence in
recognition of the fact.
CHAPTER V
The letter from Piet Cradock was not again referred to by either Nan or
her father. The latter answered it in his own way after the lapse of a
few weeks.
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