“Of course, that was right,” she said doubtfully.
“It is no easy matter to get a promise from Agnes,” he went on; “but when once given it is inviolate. This throws a grisly responsibility upon me. I must risk everything, if I am to do anything. You have expressed a dread which I have been endeavouring to stifle. I am making her wretched.”
“I don't say that you are making her wretched; I say she seems disturbed and unsettled when she ought to be full of the brightest hopes.”
“Quite so. I fear the unsettlement is exceedingly great. A neutrality on your part is all I could in reason expect; but your counsel in such a grave matter——“
Pensée summoned all her energy, and breathed a little prayer for the well-being of the two women whose lives were at stake.
“I saw Agnes this morning,” she said, speaking at a rapid pace; “she came up for some shopping, and she returned home directly after tea.”
“She ought to have told me that she was in town,” he exclaimed.
“My dear Beauclerk, you know her sweetness! She said, ‘I don't wish to take up his time; an engagement ought not to be a servitude.’ That is the reason why she did not tell you.”
“She ought to have told me,” he repeated. “Such extreme delicacy was most uncalled for. It wasn't even friendly. When we were old friends, and nothing more, she would have told me.”
“Yes, when you were friends.”