Pendleton appealed to Eleanor; and Flood, too, gave her a questioning look. She could not hide her anxiety; but that she was not afraid to admit it gave Flood a feeling of security that he would have missed if she had shown herself, like Rosamund, inclined to deny the danger. For Flood believed that the newspaper accounts of trouble present and to come must be the smoke of some fire; yet he feared only a possible unpleasantness for Rosamund, rather than any actual danger.
Ogilvie came in while they were still discussing it. To-day there were no traces of tell-tale emotion to be hidden. He had seen the sleigh before the house, guessed who were within, and now showed himself unaffectedly glad to see Flood. Rosamund inwardly trembled lest Ogilvie should express himself on the subject of the mountaineers' suspicions; she could not know that a look, passed between himself and Flood, was enough to set Flood on the alert.
She talked feverishly while they were at dinner, and her heart sank when, afterwards, Pendleton announced that he was hit with an idea. He was standing at the window, taking in the white sweeps and stretches of snow, the black trunks of the leafless trees, the dark pyramids of the spruces, the more distant shadow of pines.
"Jove!" he cried. "Just look at those slopes for skiing and tobogganing! It's better than Davos!"
Then he turned from the window, his hands deep in his pockets, and stood in front of Rosamund, his head on one side, tipping backward and forward from heels to toes.
"I say, Rosy," he said, "the best way you can convince us, and poor dear Cecilia, that you are safe up here is to let us stay for a while and see for ourselves!"
Rosamund flushed; he was so wilfully provoking. "Marshall! How can you? You know very well I can't have two men in my house! Why do you want to make me appear so inhospitable?"
Flood, too, looked as if he would like to express himself forcibly. "Oh, I say, Pendleton——" he began.
But Ogilvie, apparently, saw something of good in the suggestion. "That's a capital idea, Mr. Pendleton," he said. "Stay up here a while, and see for yourselves. I'll be very glad to put you up, if Mrs. Reeves will invite us over to dinner once in a while! My landlady isn't much of a chef!"
Flood had turned to him quickly, with a keen look of questioning. "Could you really, old man?" he asked.