“Don’t wait,” she added, “you had better go in this minute. Allen has been arguing with him the last half-hour, and can’t get any sense into him. It seems to me the man’s crazy; but he might, perhaps, listen to you.”
“I think that is scarcely likely,” replied Agatha.
Mrs. Hastings made a sign of impatience. “Then,” she rejoined, “it’s a pity. Anyway, if he speaks to you about his project you can tell him that it’s altogether unreasonable.”
She drew aside, and Agatha walked into the room in which she had had her painful interview with Gregory. Wyllard, who rose as she came in, stood quietly watching her.
“Nellie Hastings or her husband has been telling you what they think of my idea?” he said questioningly.
“Yes,” Agatha answered. “Their opinion evidently hasn’t much weight with you.”
“Haven’t you a message for me?” he asked. “You were sent to denounce my folly—and you can’t do it. If you trusted your own impulses you would give me your benediction instead.” He smiled down at her.
Agatha, who was troubled with a sense of regret, saw a suggestive wistfulness in his face.
“No,” she said slowly, “I can’t denounce your folly, as they call your decision to go North. For one reason, I have no right of any kind to force my views on you.”
“You told Mrs. Hastings that?”