“I wasn’t there, you see,” Miss Schuyler said quickly. “Those days belong to you and Hetty.”
Hetty glanced at her sharply, and fancied there was a slightly strained expression in the smiling face, but the next moment Miss Schuyler laughed.
“What are you thinking, Flo?” said Hetty.
“It was scarcely worth mentioning. I was wondering how it was that the only times we have crossed the bridge we met Mr. Grant.”
“That’s quite simple,” said Larry. “Each time it was on Wednesday, and I generally drive round to see if I am wanted anywhere that day. They have had to do almost without provisions at the homesteads in the hollow lately. Your dollars will be very welcome, Hetty.”
Hetty blushed for no especial reason, except that when Grant mentioned Wednesday she felt that Flora Schuyler’s eyes were upon her. Then, a voice rose up below.
“Hello! All quiet, Jake?”
There were footsteps in the snow outside, and when the sentry answered, the words just reached those who listened in the room.
“I had a kind of notion I saw something moving in the bluff, but I couldn’t be quite sure,” he said. “There was a door or window banged up there on the verandah a while ago, but that must have been done by one of the women in the house.”
Grant rose and drew back the curtain, when, after a patter of footsteps, the voices commenced again.