Tapping at the door, she went in and found him seated at the imposing polished mahogany desk in front of the large window that overlooked the sweeping lawns surrounding the house. His head was in his hands, but when he saw Emmy standing there he sighed with relief.

‘Ah, it’s you, my lovely.’ He held his hand out to her. ‘For a terrible moment I thought it was your mother come to tell me that she needed new furniture to go with the new wallpaper.’

‘No, Papa. It’s only me.’ She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’

‘Huh! I doubt there is anything anyone could do for me at this moment,’ he said bitterly. Then instantly regretting his words he gave her an apologetic smile. ‘I’m afraid I have been rather a fool, my darling . . . I should have curbed your mother’s spending habits many years ago, but because she always reminded me that she had married beneath her class I always felt that I owed it to her to pander to her every whim. But whatever happens, I want you to always remember that you are one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I can remember the day you were born as if it was yesterday.’ His eyes grew moist as his mind drifted back in time. ‘You were such a beautiful baby. Even at birth your eyes had a hint of green in them, which was why I persuaded your mother to call you Emerald. She was a much gentler, less demanding person back in those days,’ he said regretfully. Then with a shake of his head he pulled his thoughts back to the present to say urgently, ‘Promise me you will marry for love.’

Emmy chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, Papa, I will. I have no intention of marrying the man of my mother’s choice.’

‘Good.’ He rose from his seat and as his arms closed around her, much as they had when she was a little girl, she nestled contentedly into his chest. She had always run to her father for comfort as a child, because her mother had usually been too afraid of her messing up one of her expensive gowns.

They stood like that for precious moments until he gently held her away from him and stared at her as if he were trying to memorise every feature of her face, before saying softly, ‘As much as I would love to spend the evening talking to you, my dear, I really must finish these accounts for the brickyard.’

‘Of course, Papa.’ Emmy kissed his cheek and wished him goodnight and left feeling vaguely uneasy. The feeling stayed with her for the rest of the night, and even when she retired to bed, her father’s drawn face haunted her, so it was a long time before she fell asleep.

*