Part 30 (1/2)
CHAPTER XVI
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS
Hillyer was waiting for her at the barn when she came at last, with a smile that eased his anxiety, if only in an inconsiderable degree. But he saw, as he took her handbag and bundle, and placed them in the automobile, that she had been crying. This gladdened while it angered him, and he was lost among the many interpretations that might be put upon those signs of distress. Had she come to the end of her infatuation? Had she been subjected to insults as the reward of her service? He dared not ask her such questions--not yet; but he was resolved (and there were material reasons, too, for that decision) to have his own case settled, one way or another, at once.
Neither of them spoke more than a conventional word or two until Hillyer, after full speed down Haig's road to the junction, slowed up on the main highway along the Bright.w.a.ter. It was the serenest of summer evenings, very still and fragrant, with a touch of autumn in the air. The eastern sky was filled with pale golds and pinks, and the foothills were warm with purples. Marion's face was averted from Hillyer, and her eyes were fixed, not on the soft alternations of color in the sky, but on Thunder Mountain, where the only clouds to be seen in all the expanse of blue lay low upon its uncompromising head.
”Marion!” said Hillyer, at length.
She did not miss the note in his voice that exposed his intention, but long preparation for this moment enabled her to face him calmly.
”Yes, I know, Robert,” she said. ”You have much to say to me.”
”I'm going to-morrow,” he began abruptly. ”Will you go with me?”
”To-morrow? Go with you?” she repeated, with a little start of surprise.
”Yes. Will you go with me?”
”But I don't understand, Robert.”
”I must be in Denver the day after to-morrow.”
”I--I didn't know your time was so short. I'm afraid--I've spoiled your visit.”
”That doesn't matter, Marion, if you'll go back with me.”
”But I can't--just yet.”
”Why not?”
”I'm not ready. I haven't half finished my visit with Claire.”
She was, after all, somewhat confused, for she had not expected him to approach the subject in just this way.
”But the summer is almost gone. It's near the end of August,”
persisted Hillyer.
”There's another month of good weather. And September, Claire says, is the most beautiful of all.”
”That may be, unless Huntington's right. He told me only yesterday that it's going to be an early winter. There's come a chill in the air even since I've been here.”
”Nonsense!” she replied, recovering her composure. ”I'll go out with the last stage.”
”And get caught in an avalanche or something!”
”I suppose Seth does want to get rid of me!” she said, with a faint laugh.
”That's not it at all.”