His love for her was of a deep, almost maternal nature, and he hated the thought of parting with her.

He had hoped that the companionship of Adela would have been a joy to her, and he was intensely disappointed that it had proved otherwise.

His anxiety for her welfare had always been uppermost with him, and it hurt him somewhat when Adela laughed at his hopes and fears regarding the girl.

It was the only point upon which his wife and he lacked sympathy.
Entering by way of the kitchen premises on that evening of his talk with Dot, he was surprised to find Adela fulfilling what had come to be regarded as Dot's duties.

He looked around him questioningly as she emerged from the larder carrying a dish in one hand and a jug of milk in the other.
"Where's the little 'un ?" he said.
It was his recognized pet name for Dot, but for some reason Adela had never approved of it.