“Well,” he said, “I’m blamed if I touched the thing. What made it fall over, any way?”
“Pick them up,” the girl said sharply. “You don’t want to make trouble for me!”
He stooped, and Hetty gasped with relief as she saw him carefully scraping some dainty from the floor, for just then one of the two figures slipped away from the other, and there was a sound that might have been made by a softly closing door. The cow-boy looked up quickly, and saw Miss Torrance and Miss Schuyler standing close together, then stood up as they came towards him. Hetty paused and surveyed the overturned crockery, and then, though her heart was throbbing painfully, gave the man a glance of ironical inquiry. He looked at the maid as if for inspiration, but she stood meekly still, the picture of bashful confusion.
“I’m quite sorry, Miss Torrance,” he said. “The concerned thing went over.”
Hetty laughed. “Well,” she said, “it’s a very cold night, and Lou can get you some more supper. She is, however, not to stay here a minute after she has given it you.”
She went out with Miss Schuyler, and the two stood very silent by a window in the corridor. One of them fancied she saw a shadowy object slip round the corner of a barn, but could not be sure, and for five very long minutes they stared at the faintly shining snow. Nothing moved upon it, and save for the maid’s voice in the hall, the great building was very still. Hetty touched Miss Schuyler’s arm.
“He has got away,” she said. “Come back with me. I don’t feel like standing up any longer.”
They sat down limply when they returned to the little room, and though Miss Schuyler did not meet her companion’s gaze, there was something that did not seem to please the latter in her face.
“Flo,” she said, “one could almost fancy you felt it as much as I did. It was awfully nice of you.”
Miss Schuyler smiled, though there was a tension in her voice. “Of course I felt it,” she said. “Hetty, I’d watch that maid of yours. She’s too clever.”