“From the Apache country?” and Flora Schuyler glanced at Hetty.
Allonby nodded. “New Mexico, Arizona, or somewhere there. Now, just when you were beginning to listen, there’s Mr. Torrance wanting me.”
He rose with evident reluctance, and Miss Schuyler sat reflectively silent when he moved away.
“What are you thinking of?” asked Hetty sharply.
“That the United States is not after all such a very big country. One is apt to run across a friend everywhere.”
Hetty did not answer, but Miss Schuyler knew that she was also wondering about the cavalry officer, when half an hour later it became evident, from the sounds outside, that a sleigh had reached the door, and when a little further time had passed Allonby ushered a man in blue uniform into the room. Hetty set her lips when she saw him.
“Oh!” said Miss Schuyler. “I felt quite sure of it. This is the kind of thing that not infrequently happens, and it is only the natural sequence that he should turn up on the opposite side to Larry.”
“Flo,” said Hetty sharply, “what do you mean?”
“Well,” she said lazily, “I fancy that you should know better than I do. I have only my suspicions and some little knowledge of human nature to guide me. Now, of course, you convinced us that you didn’t care for Cheyne, but we have only your word to go upon in regard to Larry.”
Hetty turned upon her with a flash in her eyes. “Don’t try to make me angry, Flo. It’s going to be difficult to meet him as it is.”