“I suppose you saw a good deal of my folks when you were at the Grange,” he said.
“No,” answered Agatha, “I saw them once or twice.”
“Ah!” he replied, with a trace of sharpness, “then they were not particularly agreeable?”
It seemed to Agatha that he was tactless in suggesting anything of the kind, but she replied candidly.
“One could hardly go quite so far as that,” she told him. “Still, I couldn’t help a feeling that it was rather an effort for them to be gracious to me.”
“They did what they could to make things pleasant when they were first told of our engagement.”
Agatha was too weary to be altogether on her guard. His relatives’ attitude had wounded her, and she answered without reflection.
“I have fancied that was because they never quite believed it would lead to anything.”
She knew this was the truth now, though it was the first time the explanation had occurred to her. Gregory’s relatives, who were naturally acquainted with his character, had not expected him to carry out his promise. She felt that she had been injudicious in what she told him when she heard his harsh laugh.
“I’m afraid they never had a very great opinion of me,” he remarked.