She had not long to wait.
"I love her, Mrs. L'Estrange," said Jack Dunquerque passionately, on the evening of the last of their expeditions: "I love her!"
"I have seen it for some time," Agatha replied. "And I wanted to speak to you before, but I did not like to. I am afraid I have been very wrong in encouraging you to come here so often."
"Who could help loving her?" he cried "Tell me, Mrs. L'Estrange, you who have known so many, was there ever a girl like Phillis—so sweet, so fresh, so pretty, and so good?"
"Indeed, she is all that you say," Agatha acknowledged.
"And will you be my friend with Colquhoun? I am going to see him to-morrow about it, because I cannot stand it any longer."
"He knows that you visit me; he will be prepared in a way. And—Oh, Mr. Dunquerque, why are you in such a hurry? Phillis is so nice and you are so young."
"I am five-and-twenty, and Phillis is nineteen."
"Then Phillis is so inexperienced."
"Yes; she is inexperienced," Jack repeated. "And if experience comes, she may learn to love another man."