“Archie doesn’t like it, but I told him.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That Carter and he were both on the same footing, both are friends and good comrades, and nothing more.”
“I am not so sure of that,” returned her mother. “Take care, my child, and do not trifle with the affections of a good man.”
“I am not trifling, mother. Do you think I am wrong to see so much of Carter? He is not in danger of heartbreak, I can assure you, though sometimes he plays at making love. Do you think I am wrong?”
“Not if, in the end, it makes neither him nor Archie unhappy. Run along now, and take your outing.”
Agnes was eager in her greeting of Carter when he met her on the river bank. “See here, Carter,” she said, “I’m going to tell you a secret, because I want your help. Will you promise on your honor as a gentleman not to divulge it to a living soul?”
“I promise,” he returned, his hand on his heart, “if thereby I can serve a lady.”
“Well, it is this,” and she told him of the plan regarding Humphrey Muirhead. “Now, then, what I mean to do is to go and warn him. No, wait a minute; I don’t mean to say he doesn’t deserve it, and that he is not a hard, bad man, but then there is his poor little wife, who, I think, really loves him, and I want to spare her.”
Carter considered the subject. “Yes, I think she ought to be spared, if possible,” he decided.