One day, journeying from Sacramento to San Francisco, it had been observed that Mr. Dauntrey and Alfy were in close consultation, an unusual event for those two to find a subject of mutual interest. Later, in a spirit of fun, Dorothy chided her companion.
“So you have won over Mr. Dauntrey,” cried Dorothy, laughing.
“Nonsense,” said Alfy, but blushing rosily.
“But for two hours on the train you monopolized him entirely. What did you find to talk about?”
“Well, for one thing, we were talking about you,” was the defensive response.
“About me, Alfy, what could you have been saying about me?”
“I was telling him,” said Alfy, hesitatingly, “about your English inheritance.”
“Oh, but I wonder you did that. I asked that nothing be said about it. For, as you know, nothing has ever come of the matter, and nothing may. The locket has never been found, and the lawyer says that there are other ‘seemingly insurmountable requirements.’ My, what big words. I wonder I could string them all together.”
“Well,” went on Alfy, in her further defense, “he asked about you, and I couldn’t see that there was any harm.”