Isn't it too bad? We thought you'd know--that he might have
written----"
"Perhaps he has, and I've missed the letter," Carmen broke in, hating to
let these strangers think her slighted by Hilliard. "I've been in San
Francisco two days. But--where is he? On his way home?"
"I don't quite know," replied Mrs. Harland, rather evasively, it seemed.
And then she changed the subject.
Carmen had never seen anything like that winding road over the mountains,
with the white, phantom glimpses of Shasta at every forest turning.
Falconer's big automobile, which he kept at the "Camp," ran up the steep
gradients without appearing to know that they existed, and Carmen strove
to be cheerful, to look as if she were enjoying the drive. But her heart
was a lump of ice, though she talked and laughed a great deal, telling
Mrs. Harland about the rich or important people she knew, instead of
drinking in the sweet air, and giving her eyes to the wild loveliness. It
was bad enough that Nick was not coming, but the air of reserve or
uneasiness with which Mrs. Harland had said, "I don't quite know," touched
the situation with mystery. She realized that, if there were anything to
hide, she would not find it out from her host or hostess; but when on the
veranda of the glorified log-house overhanging the river she saw Theo
Dene, Carmen instantly said to herself with conviction, "If _she_ knows,
I'll get it out of her!"
And seeing Miss Dene at Rushing River Camp she was almost inclined to be
glad that Nick was not there.
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