"It would be an advantage to begin exploring the swamp before warm weather comes on," Lance agreed.
"Well, sir, I'm ready to go at it right straight off," said the other.
There was a disproportionate grimness in his tone and manner, Lance imagined. The declaration had apparently cost him an effort.
"Lord bless me, Sylv," he exclaimed, abruptly, "how thin and pale you've grown! I didn't fairly notice it until this moment. It evidently won't do you any harm to have a change."
"No, sir. I have not been feeling well."
"All right. Wait till the afternoon train, and I'll go back to Beaufort with you. I only want to see Adela for a while. Will you come along?"
He did not really want Sylv to accompany him; and perhaps this was manifest in his way of speaking. Yet he was somewhat surprised when the young man, turning aside and pretending to adjust some of the articles in the forlorn miniature trunk he had been packing, said: "No, thank you, Mr. Lance. I said good-by to her last night."
"It's just as well, that way," said Lance, nervously. "I have something important to tell her, and it will be better to see her alone."
Sylv straightened up, and glanced at him almost fiercely. A suspicion occurred to him. "Something important?" he asked. But he did not dare to demand particulars.
Nor did it reassure him much, either, to have Lance answer, "Yes; I'll tell you about it afterward."