She, too,
knew of this bond, and though she was a trifle impatient with the
slowness of the development, she was content to bide her time.
"I don't usually pay any attention to Station gossip," she said to her
husband, who was trying to read the newly arrived English paper, "but
for once in a way I believe there is something in it. According to my
experience, they should be engaged in less than a fortnight."
Colonel Carmichael started.
"Who? Lois and Stafford?"
"Yes, of course. Who else? Everybody looks upon it as practically
settled. Why do you look like that? You ought to be pleased. You said
yourself that you were very fond of Stafford--"
Carmichael made a quick gesture as though to stop the threatening
torrent of expostulation. He had turned crimson and his whole manner
was marked by an unusual uneasiness.
"Of course, I am fond of Stafford," he began. "I only meant--"
He was saved the trouble of explaining what he did mean by a sudden
exclamation from his wife, who had let her work fall to the ground
with a start of alarm.
"Good gracious, Mr. Travers!" she cried in her sharp way. "What a
fright you gave me! I thought you were a horrible thug or something
come to murder us all. There, how do you do!" She gave him her hand.
"Will you have a cup of tea? We have just had ours, but if you would,
I am quite ready to keep you company. Tea, as you know, is a weakness
of mine.
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