“Oh yes, you will,” she said, going close to him, and speaking in a child's voice of coaxing. “Agnes, you will join with me in trying to show this man in what direction his duty lies.”
“Ah, in what direction his duty lies!” said Agnes gently. “What woman can show a man where lies his duty if his inclination points in another direction? But I am forgetting mine. Luncheon!”
She pointed to the door of the dining-room, at which the butler was standing with an aggrieved expression upon his face: luncheon had been waiting for some time.
“Duty!” said Agnes, when Clare and Mr. Westwood had passed through. “Duty!” She gave a little laugh.
CHAPTER XIX
Duty! That constituted the foundation of the plea of Clare for the delivery of his lecture before the Royal Geographical Society. Her eyes sparkled as she talked at lunch, urging Claude Westwood to abandon his resolution to keep a secret the story of his adventures, of his discoveries.
“My dear Agnes,” she cried at last, “will you not join with me in telling him all that is his duty?” Agnes shook her head.
“All? Did you say 'all'?” she said. “All his duty? Why, my dear, such a task would be akin to Mr. Westwood's description of his travels. The language does not contain sufficient words to tell a man all that is his duty. But so far as the lecture before the Geographical Society is concerned I don't think that he need say very much. Surely they are entitled at least to a paper in exchange for their gold medal. Anything less would be shabby.”