"No? Perhaps that's what made it seem so funny to me."
"Well," she said, "I never noticed before that you had a great sense of humor."
"You never knew me." Jauntily.
They got off at Brooklyn Bridge together. As they made their way through the crowd, Mr. Heatherbloom appeared most care-free and very sedulous of his companion's welfare, especially when they passed one or two loiterers who seemed eying the passengers rather closely.
"Two for Brooklyn." Mr. Heatherbloom laid down a dime at the ticket office.
Soon, unmolested, he sped on once more; but as they crossed the busy river all his light-heartedness seemed suddenly to desert him; the questions he had been vainly asking himself earlier that day were reiterated in his brain. Where was she? What had become of her? His hands clasped closely. A red spot burned on his cheek.
CHAPTER X
A NEW-FOUND THEORY
"No; the prince isn't coming back to America, and she—Miss
Dalrymple—isn't going to marry him!"
Jane's voice, running on rather at random, suddenly with unusual force penetrated Mr. Heatherbloom's consciousness.