Mrs. March perceived that the girl had decided not to let the facts betray themselves by chance, and she treated them as of no significance.
“No, we didn't see him,” she said, carelessly.
The two men came walking slowly towards them, and Miss Triscoe said, “We're going to Dresden this evening, but I hope we shall meet somewhere, Mrs. March.”
“Oh, people never lose sight of each other in Europe; they can't; it's so little!”
“Agatha,” said the girl's father, “Mr. March tells me that the museum over there is worth seeing.”
“Well,” the girl assented, and she took a winning leave of the Marches, and moved gracefully away with her father.
“I should have thought it was Agnes,” said Mrs. March, following them with her eyes before she turned upon her husband. “Did he tell you Burnamy had been here? Well, he has! He has just gone on to Carlsbad. He made, those poor old Eltwins stop over with him, so he could be with her.”
“Did she say that?”
“No, but of course he did.”
“Then it's all settled?”