“‘HAVEN’T TRIED IT’”
Miss Raybold did not appear to notice his state of mind, and ate heartily. She thought it was fortunate that he happened to have the kettle on the stove, and she asked him how he liked the hermit life—the living for himself alone.
“Haven’t tried it,” he answered, curtly.
“I understand,” said Corona, “you have had to live too much for other people; but it is too soon to expect our plan to run smoothly. In a short time, however, we shall be better able to know our own natures and show them to others.”
“Oh, I can do that,” said he; “and I am goin’ to, precious soon.”
“I have no doubt of it,” she answered. “And now can you tell me where Mr. Archibald has gone? I did not see him this morning, and there are some matters I wish to speak to him about.”
“No, miss,” said Matlack, promptly, “I don’t know where he is. He’s a real hermit. He’s off by himself, most likely miles away.”
Corona reflected. “Mr.—the bishop? Have you seen him? He may be able to—”
The guide grinned grimly. He had seen the man of muscle—not fat—conversing that morning with Corona, and an hour afterwards he had seen him, not in the same place, but in the same companionship, and it gave him a certain pleasure to know that the man who could heave rocks and break young trees could not relieve himself from the thralls of the lady of the flowing speech.