He went away without another glance at her.
Not long afterwards Mrs. Hastings, who was possessed of a reasonable measure of curiosity, found occasion to enter the room.
“You have said something to trouble Harry?” she began.
“I’m not sure he’s greatly troubled. In any case, I told him I would not marry him,” Agatha answered.
Mrs. Hastings gave her a glance of compassionate astonishment.
“Oh,” she said, “he’s mad. Did he tell you that he means to leave Gregory in charge of Willow Range?”
Agatha’s face showed her surprise, but Mrs. Hastings nodded reassuringly. “It’s a fact,” she asserted. “He asked Gregory to meet him here to save time, and”—she turned towards the window—“there’s his wagon now.”
She went to the door, and then turned again.
“Is there any blood—red blood we will call it—or even common-sense in you? You could have kept Harry here if you had wanted to do so?”
“No,” replied Agatha, “I don’t think I could. I’m not even sure that, if I’d had the right, I would have done it. He recognized that.”