As it happened, he met Mrs. Gladwyne at Millicent’s, where he called, and he spent an uncomfortable half-hour in her company. She had shown in various ways that she liked him, and calling him to her side soon after he came in, she talked to him in an unusually genial manner. He felt like a traitor in this gracious lady’s presence and it was a relief when she took her departure.
“You look troubled,” Millicent observed.
“That’s how I feel,” he confessed. “After all, it isn’t a very uncommon sensation. It’s sometimes difficult to see ahead.”
“Often,” she answered, smiling. “What do you do then—stop a little and consider?”
“Not as a rule. The longer you consider the difficulties, the worse they look. It’s generally better to go right on.”
Millicent agreed with this; and soon afterward Lisle took his departure and walked back to Nasmyth’s in an unusually serious mood. They were sitting smoking when his host broached the subject that was occupying him.
“It’s some time since you said anything about the project that brought you over,” he remarked.
“That’s so,” assented Lisle. “I’m fixed much as I was when we last spoke of it. When I was in Canada, I thought I’d only to find Gladwyne and scare a confession out of him. Now I find that what I’ve undertaken isn’t by any means so simple.”
“I warned you that it wouldn’t be.”
“You were right. There’s his mother to consider—it’s a privilege to know her—she’s devoted to the fellow. Then there’s Millicent; in a way, she’s almost as devoted, anyhow she’s a staunch friend of his. I don’t know how either of them would stand the revelation.”