Mr. Easterfield was standing by his wife, and as Olive finished her explanation he took his wife's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze of sympathy; and that heroic woman never flinched; nor did she ever say one word about that pretty wedding she had planned for the spring.
They had all nearly finished the fried chicken with white sauce, when Claude Locker arrived. He had missed the regular train and had come on a freight; had got a horse when he reached Broadstone.
"I am more tired than if I had walked," he grumbled. "I am always in bad luck! I am an unlucky dog! But you are so good you will excuse me, Miss Asher."
"That is not my name," said Olive gravely.
And with both eyes of the same size, Mr. Locker looked around, wondering why everybody was laughing.
"Let me introduce Mrs. Lancaster," said Dick with a bow.
"Do you mean," cried Locker, starting up, "that this thing is really done?"
"No," said Olive. "It has just begun."