“I hope he’ll find them,” Roy said, and continued: “By the way, what am I to call him and your father? Do the people know he isn’t Tom, and that your father is not Mr. Rayborne?”
“No,” Fanny said. “Inez wanted them to stay as they were, Mr. Rayborne and Mr. Hardy. They know father was divorced and that I am the daughter of his first marriage and took my step-father’s name at his request; that is all they know, and they wouldn’t care, if they knew the whole. I think divorces are wrong, but they are common, and a lot of people left their real names east when they came here.”
“Queer set Fanny has fallen among. I wonder what father would say,” Roy thought, as they walked back to the house, where only Tom was waiting to say good night.
Alone in his room Roy thought over all he had heard and seen and drew his own conclusions.
“I may be wrong,” he said. “I hope I am. Mr. Rayborne does not look like a highwayman. Fanny’s father, too. It can’t be, but I don’t quite like Tom’s face, it is too cunning and that look he gave Mr. Rayborne meant something. I wish Converse was here. No, I don’t. There’s Fanny! It would kill her, as it is killing Inez, if I am correct in my surmise. I’ll get her away from here as soon as I can, but while she stays I stay and watch! There will be a kind of excitement about it.”
For one so young Roy was a shrewd observer and was seldom wrong in his estimation of people. He was fond of detective stories, and often thought how he would act in such and such circumstances. A suspicion, of which he did not like to think, had fastened itself upon his mind, and in trying to combat it he at last fell asleep.
The next morning, when he met Mark and Tom by daylight, they both looked better to him and were so genial and gentlemanly and kind that he mentally asked pardon for having harbored an evil thought against them. Tom was particularly friendly and proposed a drive through the valley, as the day was fine. To this Roy acceded readily, saying he would be ready as soon as he had seen Inez. At the mention of her name Tom’s face grew so sad that Roy said to him, “Fanny has told me of your engagement to her and I sincerely hope Inez will live to keep it.”
“Never,” Tom answered, and turned away, while Roy followed Fanny up to Inez’s room.
Inez had passed a fairly good night, and was very anxious to see Roy. Fanny had brushed her hair and put on her one of her own pink and white dressing jackets, which brought out the beauty of her face, notwithstanding her hollow eyes and sunken cheeks.
“She looks like a picture,” Fanny thought, as she led Roy to the side of the bed.