“He was perfectly willing to come,” she insisted to them. “Don’t forget that.” She slipped from his arm and swept them the daintiest of courtesies.
She touched the elaborate chiffon quillings of her skirt with daintily approving fingers. “I never knew the sustaining and soothing influence of feminine attire until I was bereft of it,” she assured them, laughingly. “I shall be distractingly fond of frills all the rest of my life. Wasn’t it horrid underground!” she flashed; and they heard the swish of her retreating skirts.
Hastings gripped Ned suddenly by the arm.
“You weren’t down the mine with me yesterday?” he demanded.
“Pullman, Lower 8, from Chicago,” said that young gentleman, serenely.
“Then I shall be your brother-in-law,” he ejaculated, and vanished like a shot.
Mr. Wade’s expression approached imbecility.
“Do you mean to tell me——” he began, numbly.
“That I only came last night, but my sister has been here all summer,” said Ned, concisely.
* * * * *