"With me? I don't understand you. I've just got away from my duties at the engine-house, and I thought if you and Geraldine didn't mind going out at night, we could have our sleigh-ride yet. There will be moonlight after a while."
Cissy grasped the back of a chair to steady herself. Her face was pale, her dove-eyes dilated.
"But—didn't you send a sleigh here just now for Geraldine?" she gasped.
It was his turn now to look startled, and his eyes went from her face to the next room as he exclaimed:
"Isn't Geraldine here now?"
"No, no—of course not. Didn't I just tell you that she went away just now in a sleigh that you sent to bring her to the engine-house?" answered Cissy, turning up the light in a mechanical way, as women will attend to trifles even in trouble.
She saw that he was deadly pale and excited, and he said, in a strained voice:
"But I did not send any sleigh. There must be some mistake."
"There is treachery somewhere. Oh, why did I let her go, poor child?" cried Cissy, with a sudden awful presentiment of evil.