"But is this Bonnivel captain?"
"Oh, no indeed, only lieutenant of the engineering corps. He is quite young."
He looked at her blankly, and felt himself Methuselah in his thirty-fourth year. He could not think of another question to ask, so, fingering his hat in awkward fashion, turned slowly as if to leave, his errand quite forgotten.
Joyce felt the chill that had come over him, but could not see how to dispel it. There seemed nothing to say, though there had been a thousand things yesterday. How stupid she must seem!
"I—I'm expecting Lucy," she brought out finally, catching at this straw of a subject gladly. "I wonder what she can want to see me about so particularly."
"Did you tell her she was to be subp[oe]naed as witness for the prosecution?" he asked, trying to be business-like.
"No, I didn't. I'm afraid it will trouble her greatly."
"Doubtless." His manner dropped into listlessness, and by slow stages he now reached the door. He would have been out of it in a second when a quick tap on the other, which opened into a side corridor, was followed by the entrance of Camille, with her brother in tow.
"Are you up at last?" she cried gaily. "We've been waiting hours for you—oh, good morning, Mr. Dalton."
That gentleman bowed stiffly from the doorway, and Joyce with an effort, drew herself together.