"I fancy I am the
smallest of the three; I shall be quite comfortable there. Come
along, Harry."
With no very amiable face Kelson got in and took the vacant seat by the
stranger. His attitude was not conducive to geniality, and so for a while
there was silence. At length as they turned from the station approach on
to the main road the stranger spoke. His deep-toned voice had a musical
ring in it, yet somehow to Gifford's way of thinking it was detestable.
Perhaps it was the speaker's rather aggressive and, to a man,
objectionable personality, which made it seem so.
"I am sorry to inconvenience you," he said, more with an air of saying
the right thing than from any real touch of regret. "On an occasion like
this they ought to provide more conveyances. But country towns are
hopeless."
"Oh, it is all right," Gifford responded politely. "The drive is not
very long."
"A mile?" The man's musical inflection jarred on Gifford, who began to
wonder whether their companion could be a professional singer. One of
their own class he certainly was not.
"I presume you gentlemen are going to the Hunt Ball?" he asked.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25