"It proves how little he cares one way or another!" Honor answered, wounded but proud. "And I have had a lesson never to mistake a goose for a swan again."
"But he was good to you!"
"And for that I immediately dressed him up in every virtue; I was just a fool—like any schoolgirl! Please don't let us talk of Captain Dalton any more. He does not interest me at all."
She knew it was untrue to say that, but it was too late to recall her words as she turned and faced Captain Dalton, himself, who had come up from behind them and must have heard her concluding remarks. He was apparently searching for the Collector who had returned reluctantly to camp and, as Honor passed on with a bow, which he acknowledged distantly, he and Joyce moved away together.
"I wish you would chase Honor and bring her to reason," said Joyce childishly.
"I would much prefer to stay with you, if I may?" said he impressively. "Besides, why should I?"
"Because," said Joyce with childish impulsiveness, "Honor Bright was very fond of you."
In a flash, Dalton's eyes seemed to dilate and then contract. "What makes you think so?" he asked abruptly.
"I knew it—I felt it. She could not hide it from me."
"Did she ever say anything?" he asked with assumed indifference.