"Of course you don't," said Eleanor, inspiration heaping itself up
within her. "Not really, you know, but just for a few days' rest.
Mother thinks I'm looking wretchedly. We didn't say anything about it-
-except to Mr. Windomshire, of course. He knows. Perhaps he will run
up to Omegon in a day or two to see me. It's very quiet there, and
I'll get a good rest. The hotel is delightful--facing the lake. And
the bathing's good. Dear me, I'm so sorry about your aunt." Miss
Courtenay's eyes actually blinked with perplexity. This was a most
staggering bit of news. Eleanor flushed painfully under the gaze of
the other; utter rout followed. She stammered some flimsy excuse and
dashed back into the car. To herself she was crying: "I must find Joe
and tell him to keep out of sight. Oh, how awful this is!"
Just inside the door she met her porter.
"There's nobody named Dauntless on the train, miss. A gentleman who
said he was his friend thinks he missed the train perhaps."
"He--he--oh, I see!" said Eleanor, suddenly perceiving method in Joe's
reluctance to answer to his own name. "Thank you. That's all." Then,
to herself: "He has seen Miss Courtenay, and she HASN'T seen him,--
that's plain.
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