“I’m sorry,” replied Nasmyth quietly. “Still, I’m not astonished. Your indignation is perfectly natural. I felt at the time Mr. Acton made me the offer that he had been prompted by you. That”––and he made a deprecatory gesture––“is one reason why I’m especially sorry I couldn’t profit by it.”
Mrs. Acton sat silent a moment or two, regarding him thoughtfully. “Well,” she declared, “from now I 268 am afraid you must depend upon yourself. I have tried to be your friend, and it seems that I have failed. Will you be very long at the cañon?”
“If all goes as I expect it, six months. If not, I may be a year, or longer. I shall certainly not come back until I am successful.”
“That is, of course, in one sense the kind of decision I should expect you to make. It does you credit. Unfortunately, I’m not sure that it’s wise.”
Nasmyth looked at her with quick apprehension. “I wonder,” he said, “if you would tell me why it isn’t?”
Mrs. Acton appeared to weigh her words, “My views are, naturally, not always correct,” she answered. “Even if they were, I should scarcely expect you to be guided by them. Still, I think it would not be wise of you to stay away very long.”
She rose, and smiled at him. “It is advice that may be worth taking. Now I must go back to the others.”
Nasmyth pushed aside the portieres for her, and then sauntered into the hall, where in a very thoughtful mood, he sat down by the fire.