And like most fathers he made the mistake of thinking that his daughter had never got beyond the age of sixteen. He was annoyed at the rumours for two other reasons—he regarded Dane’s association with Valerie as a breach of a code and an act of treachery, and he had recently made the acquaintance of a rich Englishman of family and personality who he thought would make a splendid husband for her. He had not supposed he could choose her husband for her, but he did not believe any woman knew her own mind so well that a little clever manœuvring would not turn her in another direction. And it must be said for him that he had had little demonstration to the contrary.
The last week in January he took his yacht to the Bay of Islands intending to pick up Valerie and the Landons and bring them home by the coast. As luck would have it, the day before the Landons returned from the North Carr ran into the driver who had taken them on the first stage of their wanderings, and learned from him that no Miss Carr had gone with them, nor had she been seen anywhere in the neighbourhood. Then he went to the post-office, where he was well known, and on the plea of urgent necessity to get at his daughter learned the illuminating fact that her mail was being readdressed to the Otamatea. He returned to Auckland that night in a very bad temper, and telegraphed to Bob to find out when Valerie would be back on the paper. Learning that it was only to be a few days he waited. His next source of information was Roger Benton into whom he ran two days later in the club to which they both belonged. They dined together, and Davenport Carr led the talk back to the election, the News and the work done by Dane Barrington. A few cleverly worded questions which Roger tried to evade told Carr all he wanted to know.
