“All right,” and she flung herself down beside him. “You’re a real comfort, Mr. Tracy,—you’re so,—so—unministerial!”
“Thank you, my child. One needn’t carry one’s pulpit voice into social life.”
“Oh, I don’t mean you do or say anything that a man of your calling oughtn’t to, but you’re so nice about it.”
“I think so too,” chattered Milly, “I do think a clergyman with a sense of humour makes a fine combination.”
The mental atmosphere gradually lightened and when Landon suggested they all retire, it was a composed and merry hearted group that obeyed the summons.
When twelve sonorous strokes boomed from the tall clock in the upper hall, the men beneath the roof of Black Aspens were all sleeping more or less soundly.
Milly, with only occasional little quivering shudders, slumbered in Landon’s arms. Vernie slept with the sound dreamless sleep of youth.
But Eve and Norma were wide awake, and unable to close their eyes.
In adjoining rooms, the communicating door ajar, they could hear one another toss restlessly, but they said no words.
Norma’s blue eyes were wide open, her thoughts rambling over the strange surroundings in which she found herself, and her mind leaping forward, speculating on what might happen.