What are you hanging about there for ?" "Nothing." "You'll be disturbing your mother." "Just a minute." She peered anxiously, her little head almost held by the railings of the banisters; she gazed down into black, mysterious depths wherein her father might be hidden.

She was driven to all this partly by some real affection that had hitherto found no outlet, partly by a desire for adventure, but partly, also, by some force that was behind her and quite recognised by her.

It was as though she said: "If I'm nice to my father and make friends with him, then you must promise that I shan't be frightened in the middle of the night, that the clock won't tick too loudly, that the blind won't flap, that it won't all be too dark and dreadful." She knew that she had made this compact.
Then she had several little encounters with her father.

She met him one day on the doorstep.

He had come up whilst she was standing there.
"Had a good walk ?" he said nervously.