AND it was that evening at the dinner table that Randolph remarked:
“Unless you’ve lost your interest in sport, there’s a chance for you. The grizzly’s a rare bird in California, these times, but the agent of a ranch my mother has in the Santa Lucia Mountains writes me that he has seen two of late, and has been thinking about killing or trapping them. It takes him several weeks to make up his mind to do anything, so the grizzlies are yours, if you care about them.”
Cecil had nearly risen from his seat. “I’ll start to-night!” he said. “How do you get there?”
“If you really care to go, I’ll walk over after dinner and ask Trennahan if he’ll go with you. I’m sorry that I can’t go myself, but I am not a sportsman, and I’m very much rushed. Trennahan is nearly as enthusiastic as yourself, and would be sure to go. You could start early to-morrow morning.”
“I will indeed! How jolly of you to think of it. I really am tremendously obliged. I’ve seldom been so keen about anything.”
Lee kept her eyes lowered. They were the feature she could least control, and she knew that they were blazing. Randolph told eighteen anecdotes of the grizzly, to which Cecil listened with undivided attention.
As they passed out into the hall, Lee tapped Cecil’s arm with her fan.
“Will you come to the library a moment?” she said. “I want to speak to you.”
The library was in a wing of the house; they were sure to be out of earshot. She lit the gas, and then turned her eyes upon him. He moved uneasily and raised his eyebrows.
“Are you angry about something?”