ness of her throat and arms, his eyes returned to hers and told her that he liked her as much, perhaps, as he had dreamt.
"Miss Carew!" he spoke her name.
"I'm so glad you're here!" she said. "Oh, I'm so glad!"
It was what she was feeling, not at all what she had intended to say; but then he had not said what he had planned.
"I wanted to come to you long ago," he confessed in return. "I've thought of coming every hour since you left, Miss Carew; when you wired yesterday and said I might come—" he halted.
"I wanted to wire you before," Ethel admitted. "But it was only yesterday it seemed I had the right to have you come."
She had planned, when she was upstairs, how she would shake hands with him; she had imagined the touch of his fingers on hers, but now neither had offered hand to the other. "Shan't we sit down?" she said. "No one will come to the front of the house unless we know it; we can talk here, Mr. Loutrelle."
She remembered that she had a very great deal to say to this man, and it was important for him to know much of it at once; she had had a "right" to send for him, not for the satisfaction of seeing him, but to tell him what she had discovered. "A great deal has happened here," she said.
"Not much up there," he replied, "except that I'm sure that Kincheloe is gone as well as your grandfather and grandmother. Kincheloe's wife is alone there with the Indians. It was a great relief to me, Miss Carew, when you let me know you had come here," he said, returning from their business to herself.
