“What name? Ah! yes. Say Mr. Martin would like to see her.”
The girl goes up-stairs, and tells Mrs. Rodney that Mr. Morton is waiting in the parlor.
After he is left alone, the man looks about the comfortable appointments of the room with a quick business eye. He seems satisfied, but has not much time for scrutiny, as he hears a step coming down the stairs. He rises, and stands ready to meet Agnes as she enters. When her eye falls on him, she stops at once, and stands looking steadily at him without speaking, but growing very pale. He comes toward her, saying, “Agnes!” and holding out both his hands. She does not take them, nor offer any welcome, but says, in a cold, quiet voice, “What do you want of me?”
“Are you, then, so unforgiving to me, Agnes? After all my long search for you, is this all the greeting you can give me?”
“I do not know how long your search may have been, but I am sorry that you have succeeded in finding me. What is it you want of me?” she says, in the same cold tone.
“To live with you, as I would have done all these years if you had not so unaccountably hidden yourself away.” He says this with an air of boldness, and of assertion of some right which he supposes she must recognize.
She smiles disdainfully. She divines the selfishness of this move, and she sees that he is ignorant of the extent of her knowledge concerning him.
“Where have you been all these years?” he asks, as she continues silent.
“I am not bound to account for myself to you,” she replies.