"They've told me to go up and see them to-morrow;" and he moved to the table. "Come on. I'm sharp-set."
"Did they write in a satisfactory way?"
"Oh, yes. Sit down, my dear, and give me my tea."
He had said that he felt hungry, but he ate without appetite. The roll was crisp and warm, the bacon had been cooked to a turn, the tea was neither too strong nor too weak; and yet nothing tasted quite right.
"Will," said his wife, toward the end of the meal, "I can see you aren't really satisfied with their answer. Do tell me;" and she stretched her hand across the table with a gesture that expressed prettily enough both appeal and sympathy.
She was a naturally graceful woman, tall and slim, with reddish brown hair, dark eyebrows, and a white skin; and she carried her thirty-two years so easily that, though the searching sunlight bore full upon her, she looked almost a young girl.
Dale took her hand, squeezed it, and then, with an affectation of carelessness, laughed jovially. "They've appointed a deputy to take charge here during my absence."
"Oh, Will!" Mrs. Dale's dark eyebrows rose, and her brown eyes grew round and big; in a moment all the faint glow of color had left her pale cheeks, and her intonation expressed alarm and regret.
"It riled me a bit at first," said Dale firmly. "However, it's no consequence—really."
"But, Will, that means—" She hesitated, and her lips trembled before she uttered the dreadful word—"That means—suspended!"