For the door had opened suddenly, and his
host had inopportunely entered at the instant. Although Briscoe had
affected to notice nothing, he heard the final sentence, and he was
disposed to berate Bayne when the awkward breakfast was concluded and the
party had scattered.
"You were mighty sarcastic, sure," he observed to Bayne over their cigars
in the veranda, for with all the world submerged in the invisibilities of
the mists the day's hunt was necessarily called off.
"Why, I was rattled," Bayne declared. "I did not expect to hear her
upbraid herself."
"She is _so_ sensitive," said Briscoe compassionately. He had heard
from his wife the interpretation that she had placed on Bayne's sudden
visit to this secluded spot, and though he well knew its falsity, he
could but sympathize with her hope. "Lillian is very sensitive."
"I think it is up to me to be sensitive on that subject; but her
sensitiveness at this late day is what gave _me_ the cold shivers."
Briscoe eyed him sternly, the expression incongruous with the habitual
aspect of his broad, jovial, florid face.
Pages:
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54