"That's so! And while you was away—were away—" In lively undertone Ramsey ran on to tell of Mrs. Gilmore's having in Hugh's absence called in her maid Harriet to show the young lady from Napoleon how to do a bit of stage business without a hint of the stage. At the tale's end the pair glanced round from the nearing Antelope to the Gilmores and back again. "Harriet's talented. You wouldn't think she could be talented. And isn't she handsome!"
"I've yet to see her face," said Hugh abstractedly.
"That's so, too! When she heard you coming back that time, she ran like a kildee." The narrator checked a laugh. "How's mom-a? Oh, she's well or you'd have told me. I just can't imagine mom-a any way but well." But again the tone betrayed incertitude.
"Yes, she's well," said the youth. "So is my father."
"Where is he?"
Hugh's queer solemnity deepened. "He's down in a stateroom with your brothers. The senator and the general have just joined them."
What a freshet of grave information! Ramsey laughed straight at him. "You talk like a trance medium."
"Not at all."
"You do! I heard one once. You're in a trance now."
"Not at all."