"Isn't it exciting?" she said. "I'm going down on Thursday, under this contract, to stay two months."
"No, you're not," said Horace.
She stared at him. He had never spoken like that in all the years she had known him.
"What do you mean, dear?" she said rather reprovingly.
"You were so busy telling me about this Adonis you're going to work for you did not stop to consider that I might have some news of my own. I've landed that job in Canada, and I'm going there on Friday and you're going with me. You're going to marry me the day after tomorrow and start north on Friday."
She stared at him, many emotions succeeding each other on her face.
She had given her word--her most solemn word. She could hear Wood's quiet voice asserting his confidence in her. "I know I can depend on you; if you give me your word I know you'll keep it." She could not break it. She said this, expecting that Horace would admire her for her dependability--would at least agree with her that she was doing right.
But instead he looked at her with a smoldering expression, and when she had finished he broke out. In fact he made her a scene of jealousy—the first he had ever made--but none the worse for that. For a beginner Horace showed a good deal of