Hugh straightened, somewhat startled. He had expected some sort of a formal greeting, a few words in apology or introduction, not this straight-out, uncompromising "Where's Dan?" It seemed to him she acted somewhat suspicious of him, also.
She had, he observed, a well-bred voice. She spoke in clear, level tones that pleased his ear. The voice was wholly lacking in affectation, but it was simply brimming and vibrant with health and high spirits. Hugh noticed something else, too, and smiled inwardly. He couldn't remember ever having been spoken to in just that way before. The level, impersonal tone implied an insurmountable social barrier between them. It was a somewhat similar tone, he remembered, to that in which he had occasionally spoken to a servant. In this case he obviously was the inferior.
He paused and reflected as to the whereabouts of Dan. The truth came to him in a moment. Dan of course referred to his predecessor. "He's dead," Hugh answered simply.
For the instant he was frightened. It occurred to him, when the words had gone too far to recall, that he should have been gentler. He might have prepared the girl, in some degree, for the shock. He didn't want her to faint. But if he had expected any hysteria or excitement he was doomed to a fresh surprise. She opened her eyes; and it seemed to Hugh that she closed her
