Ferris had grown crimson again, and the veins on his forehead showed swollen high. “No,” he said, almost abjectly.
Maud Barrington turned from him to her hostess as she answered, “That will suffice, in the meanwhile, until I can decide whether it is desirable to make known the rest of the tale. I brought the new song Evelyn wanted, Mrs. Macdonald, and I will play it for her if she would care to try it.”
She moved away with the elder lady, and left the rest astonished to wonder what had become of Ferris, who was seen no more that evening, while presently Witham came in.
His face was a trifle weary, for he had toiled since the sun rose above the rim of the prairie, and when the arduous day was over, and those who worked for him were glad to rest their aching limbs, had driven two leagues to Macdonald’s. Why he had done so he was not willing to admit, but he glanced round the long room anxiously as he came in, and his eyes brightened as they rested on Maud Barrington. They were, however, observant eyes, and he noticed that there was a trifle more colour than usual in the girl’s pale-tinted face, and signs of suppressed curiosity about some of the rest. When he had greeted his hostess, he turned to one of the men.
“It seems to me you are either trying not to see something, Gordon, or to forget it as soon as you can,” he said.
Gordon laughed a little. “You are not often mistaken, Courthorne? That is precisely what we are doing. I presume you haven’t heard what occurred here an hour ago?”
“No!” said Witham. “I’m not very curious if it does not concern me.”
Gordon looked at him steadily. “I fancy it does. You see, that young fool Ferris was suggesting that you had been mixed up in something not very creditable at the settlement lately. As it happened, Maud Barrington overheard him and made him retract before the company. She did it effectively, and if it had been any one else, the scene would have been almost theatrical. Still, you know nothing seems out of place when it comes from the Colonel’s niece. Nor if you had heard her would you have wanted a better advocate.”
For a moment the bronze deepened in Witham’s forehead, and there was a gleam in his eyes, but though it passed as rapidly as it came, Gordon had seen it, and smiled when the farmer moved away.
“That’s a probability I never counted on,” he thought. “Still, I fancy if it came about, it would suit everybody but the Colonel.”