“When?”
“This afternoon. I sent the letter myself to Mr. Trenchard's, where I found out he had been staying.”
As Mrs. Harper said this, her husband's eyes literally glared.
“You knew where he was staying?—Agatha—Agatha?”
But Agatha's look was fixed on the door, to which her sisters-in-law had gathered hastily. There was a talking outside—a welcome as it seemed. She forgot everything except her sense of right and justice to one unwarrantably and unaccountably blamed.
“It is surely he,” she cried, and ran eagerly forward.
“Nathanael!”
“Frederick!”
The two brothers, elder and younger, stood confronting each other.