"I have not said so."
She dropped her eyes and mused for a moment, then—
"Do you think he will actually call in a detective—to—to make his innocence seem more probable?"
"I hope he will not," I replied, sincerely this time, but with a hidden meaning.
"I don't think that Mr. Beale will desire further investigation. The matter will die out, undoubtedly. Mr. Barnard is a man of powerful influence in the community, and 'Squire Brookhouse will use his influence in behalf of Dr. Bethel, I am sure." Then, looking up again, quickly: "Do you not admire Miss Barnard?"
"Miss Barnard is 'a thing of beauty,'" I rejoined, sententiously; then, with a downward glance that pointed my sentence, "I admire all lovely women."
She laughed lightly, but said no more of Miss Barnard, or Dr. Bethel, and we parted with some careless badinage, supplemented by her cordial hope that I would prolong my stay in Trafton, and that she should see me often at The Hill.
Going slowly homeward, through the August darkness, I mentally voted the treasure-ship heiress a clever, agreeable, and charming young lady, and spent some time in trying to decide whether her delightful cordiality was a token that I had pleased, or only amused her. Such is the vanity of man!
I found Carnes wide awake, smoking and waiting.