"Oh, he couldn't come!" Carmen echoed dully.
"No. 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. She admired Theo's splendid red hair and dazzling skin. She saw that, though the young woman's clothes were simple, their simplicity was Parisian and expensive; and she saw also that Theo was a flirt--a "man-eater," as she put it to herself, her dark eyes meeting the green eyes in a first understanding glance.
Miss Dene was far from unwilling to be pumped. In fact, she meant to be pumped; and that afternoon, while Mrs. Harland was writing letters and Falconer was with his secretary, whom he could not escape even in the country, she invited Mrs. Gaylor to sit with her on the broad veranda, beneath which the river ran singing a never-ending song.