Mrs. Hastings looked thoughtful. “You have never told me anything about the will.”
“If I haven’t, it wasn’t for want of prompting,” returned Hastings dryly. “The will was sealed, and handed to me by Harry on the express understanding that it was not to be opened until we had proof that he was dead or until the six months mentioned had expired. If he turned up it would, of course, be handed back to him. He made me promise solemnly that I would not offer the least hint as to its provisions to anybody.”
Mrs. Hastings indulged in a shrug indicating resignation. “In that case I suppose I must be content, but he might have made an exception of—me. Anyway, I think I see how we can put what appears to be a little necessary pressure upon Gregory.” She turned again to her husband rather abruptly. “After all, is it worth while for me to trouble about the thing?”
Hastings was taken off his guard. “Yes,” he said decidedly, “if you can put any pressure on Gregory I guess it would be very desirable to do it as soon as possible.”
“Then you think that Harry may turn up, after all?”
“I do,” said Hastings gravely, “I don’t know why. In any case it’s highly desirable that Gregory shouldn’t fling his property away.”
Mrs. Hastings smiled. “Well,” she said, “I’ll think over it. I’ll probably get Agatha to see what she can do in the first place.”
She saw a trace of uncertainty in her husband’s face.
“As you like,” he said. “Something must be done, but on the whole I’d rather you didn’t trouble Agatha about the matter. It would be wiser.”
Mrs. Hastings asked no more questions. She believed that she understood the situation, and she had Agatha’s interests at heart, for she had grown very fond of the girl. There was certainly one slight difficulty in the way of what she meant to do, but she determined to disregard it, though she admitted that it might, cause Agatha some embarrassment afterward. When she found the girl alone, she sat down beside her.