Agnes watched the approaching clouds. Rickie had warned her; now she began to warn him. As the visit wore away she urged him to be pleasant to his aunt, and so convert it into a success.
He replied, “Why need it be a success?”—a reply in the manner of Ansell.
She laughed. “Oh, that’s so like you men—all theory! What about your great theory of hating no one? As soon as it comes in useful you drop it.”
“I don’t hate Aunt Emily. Honestly. But certainly I don’t want to be near her or think about her. Don’t you think there are two great things in life that we ought to aim at—truth and kindness? Let’s have both if we can, but let’s be sure of having one or the other. My aunt gives up both for the sake of being funny.”
“And Stephen Wonham,” pursued Agnes. “There’s another person you hate—or don’t think about, if you prefer it put like that.”
“The truth is, I’m changing. I’m beginning to see that the world has many people in it who don’t matter. I had time for them once. Not now.” There was only one gate to the kingdom of heaven now.
Agnes surprised him by saying, “But the Wonham boy is evidently a part of your aunt’s life. She laughs at him, but she is fond of him.”
“What’s that to do with it?”
“You ought to be pleasant to him on account of it.”
“Why on earth?”