"Mr. Carroll was in town not long ago," Kitty began bluntly. "Have you had any news of him since he sailed?"
Evelyn did not know what to make of the question, and she answered coldly.
"No; we do not expect any word for some time."
"I'm sorry. We're anxious about Mr. Vane."
On the surface, the announcement appeared significant, but the girl's boldness in coming to her for news was inexplainable to Evelyn. Puzzled as she was, her attitude became more discouraging.
"You know him then?"
Something in her tone made Celia's cheeks burn and she drew herself up.
"Yes," she said; "we know him, both of us. I guess it's astonishing to you. But I met him first when he was poor, and getting rich hasn't spoiled Mr. Vane."
Evelyn was once more puzzled. The girl's manner savored less of assurance than of wholesome pride which had been injured. Kitty then broke in:
"We had no cards to send in; but I'm Kathleen Blake, and this is Celia
Hartley—it was her father sent Mr. Vane off to look for the spruce."