The girl looked at him with an excellent assumption of incredulity. “Then you have never shot anybody in British Columbia?”
Carroll laughed, as if this greatly pleased him, but Vane’s face was rather grave as he answered her.
“No,” he said. “I’m thankful I haven’t.”
“Then the West must be getting what the Archdeacon—he’s Flora’s husband, you know—calls decadent,” the girl retorted.
“She’s incorrigible,” Mrs. Chisholm interposed with a smile.
Carroll, who was sitting next to Mabel, leaned towards her confidentially. “In case you feel badly disappointed, I’ll let you into a secret,” he said. “When we feel real savage, we take the axe instead.”
Evelyn fancied that Vane winced at this, but Mabel looked openly regretful.
“Can either of you pick up a handkerchief going at full gallop on horseback?” she inquired.
“I’m sorry I can’t, and I’ve never seen Wallace do so,” Carroll answered, laughing, and Mrs. Chisholm shook her head at her daughter.
“Miss Clifford complained of your inattention to the study of English last quarter,” she said severely.