"I came alone," Mr. Britton replied, with quiet emphasis, linking his arm within Darrell's as they ascended the road together.
"How long have you been in town?"
"But two days. I am on my way to the coast, and only stopped off for a few days. I shall spend to-morrow with you, go back with you Saturday to The Pines, and go on my way Monday."
Having made his guest as comfortable as possible in his own room, Darrell laid aside his working paraphernalia, his hammer, and bag of rock specimens, and donning a house coat and pair of slippers seated himself near Mr. Britton, all the time conscious of the close but kindly scrutiny with which the latter was regarding him.
"This is delightful!" he exclaimed; "but it is past my comprehension how Mr. Underwood ever let you slip off alone!"
Mr. Britton looked amused. "I told him I was
coming to see you, and I think he intended coming with me till he heard me order my saddle-horse for the trip. I think that settled the matter. I believe there can be no perfect interchange of confidence except between two. The presence of a third party—even though a mutual friend—breaks the magnetic circuit and weakens the current of sympathy. Our interviews are necessarily rare, and I want to make the most of them; therefore I would come to you alone or not at all."
"Yes," Darrell replied; "your visits are so rare that every moment is precious to me, and think of the hours I lost by my absence to-day!"
"Do you court Dame Nature so assiduously every day, subsisting on cold lunches and tramping the mountains till nightfall?"
"Not every day, but as often as possible," Darrell replied, smiling.