“No, I did not come on the flyer,” Carroll answered, in the same curt tone. Then for a moment there was silence, and Carroll ate his breakfast.
It was Major Arms who broke the silence. “You got in last night,” he said, with scarcely an inflection of interrogation.
But Carroll replied, “I was in the hotel at midnight.”
“We have been frightfully busy since you left, Arthur dear,” said Mrs. Carroll. “It is a tremendous undertaking to make a wedding.”
“How do the preparations go on?” asked Carroll, while Ina bent over her plate with a half-annoyed, half-pleased expression.
“Very well,” replied Mrs. Carroll. “Ina's things are lovely, and the dressmaker is so pleased that we gave her the trousseau. It will be a lovely wedding.”
“Where have you been all the week?” Carroll asked of Arms, who was gazing with an utter openness of honest delight at Ina.
“Here some of the time, and in New York. I had to run up to Albany on business for two days. I got home Wednesday night too late to come out here, and I went into Proctor's roof-garden to see the vaudeville show.”
“Did you?” remarked Carroll, in an even voice. He sugared his cereal more plentifully.
“Yes. I had the time on my hands. It was a warm night and I did not feel like turning in, and I was trailing about and the lights attracted me. And, by Jove! I was glad I went in, for I saw something that carried me back—well, I won't say how many years, for I'm trying to be as much of a boy as I can for this little girl here—but, by Jove! it did carry me back, though.”