It was borne in upon Agatha that she could be candid with this woman who had already guessed the truth.
“Yes,” she replied, “for six months. That is, we are not to decide on anything until they have passed. I felt we must get used to each other. It seemed best.”
“To you. Did it seem best to Gregory?”
A flush crept into Agatha’s face. Though his acquiescence had been a relief to her, she felt that he might have made a more vigorous protest.
“He gave in to me,” she answered.
Mrs. Hastings looked thoughtful. “Well,” she observed, “I believe you were wise, but that opens up another question. What are you going to do in the meanwhile?”
“I don’t know,” confessed Agatha apathetically. “I suppose I shall have to go away—to Winnipeg, most probably. I could teach, I think.”
“How are you and Gregory to get used to each other if you go away?”
Agatha made a helpless gesture. “I hadn’t looked at it in that light.”
“Are you very anxious to get used to him?”