"Does it matter what it is—or who it is," said Milly, passionately; "as long as——" Her tears came and stopped her.
Agatha divined the source of Milly's passion.
"Then you don't mind, Milly? You'll let me go on?"
Milly rose; she turned abruptly, holding her head high, so that she might not spill her tears.
Agatha went with her over the grey field towards the Farm. They paused at the gate. Milly spoke.
"Are you sure?" she said.
"Certain."
"And you won't leave go?" Her eyes shone towards her friend's in the twilight. "You will go on?"
"You must go on."
"Ah—how?"