The eyes of both Mrs. Rathburn and her daughter showed surprise when Disston colored.
“That we are not now is her fault entirely,” he answered. “How is she?”
Toomey shrugged a shoulder.
“If you mean physically—I should say her health was perfect. No one ever sees her. She lives out in the hills alone with her sheep and a couple of herders.”
“How very extraordinary!” Miss Rathburn observed languidly.
“Plucky, I call it,” Disston answered.
“They’ve named her the 'Sheep Queen of Bitter Crick.'” Toomey laughed disagreeably.
“It’s curious you’ve never mentioned her, Hughie, when you’ve told us about everyone else in the country.”
“I didn’t think you’d be interested, Beth,” he answered stiffly.
Toomey changed the subject and the incident seemed forgotten, but Mrs. Rathburn’s eyes rested upon Hugh frequently with a look that was inquiring and speculative.