"Good Lord!" ejaculated Christopher, and stopped short, impatiently desisting before the admiration illumining her eyes. >From her former disdain he had evidently risen to a height in her regard that was romantic in its ardour. It was in vain that he told himself he cared for one emotion as little as for the other—in spite of his words, the innocent fervour in her face swept over the barrier of his sullen pride.
"So you are going away to-morrow, "he said at last; "and for good?"
"For good, yes. I go abroad very unexpectedly for perhaps five years. My things aren't half ready, but business is of more importance than a woman's clothes."
"Will you be alone?"
"Oh, no."
"Who goes with you?" he insisted bluntly.
As she reddened, he watched the colour spread slowly to her throat and ear.
"I am to be married, you know," she answered, with her accustomed composure of tone.
His lack of gallantry was churlish.
"To that dummy with the brown mustache?" he inquired.