CHAPTER I
BUILDING THE CATHEDRAL
The pretty little drawing-room was already in half darkness. Travers went to the window and, leaning his shoulder lazily against the casement, began to sort out and open the letters that had been lying on the tea-table waiting for him.
"One from the Colonel, Lois," he said, after a moment's perusal. "No news in particular. He is down with a touch of fever, and the whole regiment is camping out without him. Stafford's marriage still hanging fire. Silly girl! What's she waiting for, in the name of conscience?"
Lois looked up from her duties at the table.
"They have been engaged over a year," she said.
"As long as we have been engaged and married," he answered with an affectionate smile. "How long is that, little woman? About eighteen months, eh? They don't either of them seem in much of a hurry."
He went on reading, only stretching out his hand mechanically as she brought him his second cup of tea. Lois remained at his side, her eyes fixed thoughtfully, almost hungrily, on the torn envelope which lay on the floor at his feet.
"Why did you call Beatrice Cary a silly girl?" she asked at last. "It never struck me that she was silly."
"She wasn't, but she will be if she doesn't hold Stafford fast."