"
The Colonel was on the veranda when she arrived, superintending the
gardening operations from there. He greeted her with surprise, for it
was not her way to drive over there alone. "I am deeply honoured," he
said, as he assisted her up the steps. "May I order tea?"
"No, thank you," she answered, somewhat primly. It was evident that she
was ill at ease. "I understood from Allison that you were doing all this
yourself. Instead, I find you sitting on the veranda like a landed
proprietor, in command of an army of slaves."
"Two Irishmen don't make an army," he laughed, "though I'll admit that,
if angry, they would make a formidable force. I helped to dig for a
while this morning, but it didn't seem to agree with me, so I quit. My
work seems to be done," he continued, with a sigh.
"No, it isn't," she returned, sharply. "There's work to be done, but
whether you or I or both together can do it, is extremely doubtful."
"What do you mean, Francesca?"
Madame leaned toward him confidentially. "Richard," she said, in a low
tone, "has it ever occurred to you that Allison might marry?"
A shadow crossed his face, then vanished in a smile.
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