"Do?" said Agneta, with a toss of the head. "Oh, we know what to do! Mother will find that I have a will of my own, and am not the weak creature she imagines."
"Oh, Agneta!" I exclaimed, startled by her words. "You would not think of getting married without your parents' consent?"
Her face flushed.
"Oh, no, of course not," she said hurriedly. "I did not mean that."
But her manner did not convince me of the truth of her words. I knew instinctively that some such idea was in her mind.
"It would be a most foolish act, and would bring certain misery," I said. "Don't listen to him, Agneta, if he tries to persuade you to do anything so wrong."
"Of course I shall not," she returned. "But, oh, how you talk, Nan! It is clear that you know nothing whatever about love."
I was silent, but I said to myself that I could never have loved Ralph Marshman, or any man who tried to lead me into crooked ways. The man must be nobler and wiser and better than myself into whose keeping I gave my life.
I began to talk to Agneta about Olive and her great happiness, but she showed little interest in the subject. Thoroughly absorbed in herself, she had no sympathy to spare for another's joy. Paulina would have listened to the story with lively interest, and Miss Cottrell would have been ready to discuss it from every possible point of view; but Agneta heard me with a bored air which quickly reduced me to silence.
The next morning dawned beautifully bright, and when I came downstairs the hall door was wide open, and Alan Faulkner stood sunning himself on the step with Sweep beside him.