"In the wood talking with Mr. Ralph Marshman," I replied. "And I wish enough I had never gone near him. He is a horrid man, Agneta!"
A scene ensued which was to the credit of neither of us. In my sore mortification I lost control of my temper, and said words that were better unsaid. I reproached my cousin with deceitful and even unmaidenly conduct. I told her that the man for whose sake she seemed ready to risk the priceless pearl of her good name was no gentleman, and that he was not worthy of a girl's respect, still less her love. I told her that although I had promised to say nothing to Aunt Patty about the love story she had confided to me, things had now come to such a pass that I felt I had a right to claim release from that promise. A higher obligation compelled me to inform aunt of what was going on, and I gave her warning that I meant to lay the whole matter before Aunt Patty at the earliest opportunity.
Agneta did not receive my rebukes with meekness. She reproached me in her turn with considerable bitterness. Very hard were the words she hurled at me. I was a prude, a mischief-maker, a Pharisee, and a sneak. The last epithet made me wince. I did so hate all meanness in word or deed, that the injustice of this last judgment stung me. But I held my ground in spite of it. The issue was too grave for me lightly to give way. I felt it as incumbent on me to save Agneta from herself as if I had seen her in a fit of madness about to throw herself over a precipice. When at last she saw that I would not yield, Agneta, wholly exhausted by her passionate outburst, sank on a bank by the roadside and began to cry. I felt very uneasy as I watched her. My attempts to soothe her met with little success.
"You are so unkind, Nan," she sobbed. "You want to make me miserable, and it is so horrid of you, just when I was looking forward to the garden party to-morrow. You might wait till that is over before you tell Mrs. Lucas. You will upset her as well as me, and spoil everything."
I was amazed to hear Agneta speak so. What a child she was, to be sure! How could I take her love trouble seriously, when I found her in the midst of her distress giving a thought to this garden party, to which we were all invited for the morrow? I knew that Aunt Patty was looking forward to going to the Canfields' entertainment accompanied by most of her paying guests; but I had no idea that Agneta was counting on it so much, although I knew she had bought a new hat for the occasion. While I mused on it, Agneta spoke again.
"Oh, do, Nan!" she said pleadingly, looking up at me with tears in her blue eyes. "Do promise me that you will say nothing to Mrs. Lucas till the party is over!"
For a moment I hesitated. Surely the delay could do no harm, since I believed that Ralph Marshman was leaving Chelmsford this evening. The sound of wheels on the quiet road decided me. I did not wish that any one should see my cousin crying there by the wayside.
"Very well," I said; "I promise on condition that you stop crying at once, and walk on like a reasonable being."
Agneta's face brightened instantly. She rose, and, slipping her hand within my arm, as though she felt the need of support, began to walk at a pace which soon brought us within the gate of "Gay Bowers."