Then
he pulled himself together, looking her full and steadily in the face.
"It is very good of you," he said, "but indeed I can not wait. I have
only come to break a piece of news to you. As--my best friends here, I
thought it only right that you should be told first."
Travers rose with a mock alacrity.
"Am I _de trop,_ or do I count among the 'best friends'?" he asked.
Stafford nodded, but he did not meet the quizzical eyes which studied
his face. He was still looking at Lois.
"Please remain," he said. "I wish you to know--and Miss Cary wishes
you to know also."
"Miss Cary?" It was the Colonel's turn to speak. His veined hand
rested clenched on the verandah balustrade, and there was a sudden
sternness in his attitude and voice which filled the atmosphere with
an electric suspense. "What has Miss Cary to do with the matter?"
"Everything. Miss Cary has consented to become my wife."
[Illustration: "Miss Cary has consented to become my wife."]
He was not looking at Lois now, but at the Colonel, and then afterward
at Travers. The latter had turned away and was gazing out over the
garden, his arms folded over his broad, powerful chest. His silence
was pointed, brutally significant. It threatened to force an
explanation which each present was ready to give his life to avoid.
The Colonel, Mrs. Carmichael, Stafford himself, each thought of Lois
in that brief silence, and each after his own character acted in
obedience to the instinctive desire to protect and uphold her.
Pages:
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192