“Oh, dear, no; not quite so bad as that. I’ve been down here since half-past four or such a matter.”
“But you went to the college after you left us?”
“Yes; and Mrs. Caswell was good enough to give me something to eat at the proper time. She makes one believe all the old-time stories of Southern hospitality. Which reminds me: we are both invited there to dinner to-morrow evening.”
Tregarvon refused to be turned aside.
“You didn’t go to Highmount to visit with Mrs. Caswell,” he suggested sourly.
“Not altogether; no.”
“Did you see Richardia?”
Carfax had lighted his candle and was preparing to beat a hasty retreat, did retreat as far as the door before he turned to say: “Yes, I saw I Miss Richardia. You wished me joy, last night, Vance, and I hope you are going to do it again. I’ve asked her to marry me, you know.”
“What!” shouted Tregarvon, springing from his chair. And then, with a mighty effort to keep the words from choking him: “What did she say?”
Carfax smiled like a winning angel. “She—well, it seemed to strike her as being a bit sudden, as you might say, and——”