"You are right," said aunt; "but how do you know that?"
Then I told her how Dora had declared that she had seen Agneta in Regent Street and how we had all tried in vain to convince her that she was mistaken; but I said not a word about the man Dora had described to us. I was anxious to avoid the least risk of breaking my word to Agneta, yet I wished that I had not pledged myself so impulsively, for my discovery of the dissimulation Agneta was practising made me profoundly uncomfortable.
Agneta had welcomed me with professions of delight which I afterwards judged to be insincere, since she seemed desirous to avoid being alone with me. She gave me no opportunity of having a quiet word with her till we went upstairs for the night, and then she hurried into bed, declaring that she was very sleepy. But I made her listen to me before she slept. She could not deny that Dora had seen her in Regent Street.
"Don't be hard on me, Nan," she said. "When Ralph wrote that he would be in London on Tuesday, and asked me to meet him, I felt that I must go. I had not seen him for so long, and you know all things are fair in love."
"I don't know it," I said. "It seems to me that all things should be beautiful and honourable that have to do with love. If this man truly loved you, he would not tempt you to act in a way that is beneath your dignity. He must know that your parents have forbidden you to meet him, or even write to him."
"Why, of course he knows," Agneta said impatiently.
"Surely you would not have me submit to such tyranny!"
"I think your parents have a right to some consideration, Agneta," I replied. "You are their child; you owe everything to them. I know it is very trying for you, but if you will only wait—"
"Wait, wait! I hate that word!" broke in Agneta, angrily. "I will not wait, so there!"
"But what can you do?" I asked.