Prescott glanced across again at Frank, and a little amused smile came across his face at the cautious way in which he had spoken. But Frank was looking thoughtfully into the fire, and did not notice it.
“There were other young ladies staying in the house you said, Frank. Was there anything special about any of them?”
“No,” Frank said, carelessly; “they were a very jolly lot of girls; I had great fun down there.”
“Lots of dancing, and music, and so on, I suppose, Frank?”
“No end,” Frank said.
“Any of the girls sing well?”
“Katie sang splendidly; one of the finest voices I ever heard in my life,” Frank said, enthusiastically.
“Katie?” Prescott repeated questioningly.
“Miss OByrne,” Frank explained.
“Ah,” Prescott said, with a smile, “the stout little cousin.”