“A friend?”
“A friend from Foleys,—Rion Gracey, and Barney Sullivan with him.”
“Rion Gracey!” She looked pleased and slightly embarrassed. “Really—really!” She paused, her face full of smiles, that in some way or other showed disquietude beneath them.
“They’re down from Foleys and going on to Virginia in a day or two. Queer they came around this way, wasn’t it?”
Again the Colonel could not keep from attempts to plumb hidden depths. Again his inspecting eye noticed a fluctuation of color. June was unquestionably surprised by the news, but he could not be sure whether she was pleased.
“You’ll have to have them up to dinner,” he continued. “You saw so much of them last summer before you left that you’ll have to offer them some kind of hospitality.”
“Of course,” she said hastily, flashing an almost indignant look at him. “They’ll take dinner with us, or breakfast, or lunch, or anything they like. I’d love to see them and hear about everything up there. I want to hear how Barney Sullivan’s getting on with Mitty. I thought they’d be engaged by this time.”
“Perhaps they are”—it must be confessed that the Colonel’s interest in the love affairs of his friend Mitty sounded perfunctory—“I wish Rion was, too.”
“Yes,” in a small, precise voice, “wouldn’t it be nice?”
“It would make me very happy,” said the Colonel gravely, “very happy, June. You know that.”