"This will do nicely, thank you," I said constrainedly as I seated myself at the table.
He had moved to the window, and sat there in such a position that I only caught a side view of him. Sweep's forepaws were on his knee, and he was stroking the dog's ears with a regular, even movement, which appeared to be equally agreeable to them both.
"Why could he not go away and leave me to take my tea in peace?" I thought, as I waited nervously for him to speak. I tried hard to appear at my ease as I sipped my tea, but I was far from being so. I longed to break into careless talk, but somehow I could think of nothing to say.
Gradually I became aware that he was scarcely less embarrassed than I was. Once or twice, he shot a grave, inquiring glance at me, and seemed about to speak, but nothing came of it. When at last he spoke, his words gave me a shock.
"That was Mr. Ralph Marshman whom I saw with you in the wood, Miss Nan."
"It was," was all I could say, while, to my vexation, I felt myself flushing again.
"He was at Cambridge with me," he said.
"You know him then?" was my reply.
"My acquaintance with him was of the slightest description," he replied emphatically. "He was in his first year, and I had finished my college course."
I was silent, for I felt myself in a dilemma. For Agneta's sake I should have liked to question him concerning Mr. Ralph Marshman; but if I did so he would imagine that I took a personal interest in the young man. Indeed, I much feared that already that idea had possession of his mind. I longed to explain the true state of affairs, but I could not betray Agneta's secret. I was bound to keep silence, but I realised with a sinking heart that my promise was likely to cost me dear.