A week had passed in this unsatisfactory way, when one afternoon, Agnes, having come in from her drive, sat down with Clare to their tea and hot cakes. The girl was not quite so lively as she had been during the week, and Agnes noticed the change, inquiring the cause of it.
Clare coloured slightly, and laughed uneasily.
“Somehow I feel a little startled,” said she. “Claude has been here.”
“What, you consider that a sufficient explanation?” said Agnes.
“He has been saying something that startled me. The fact is that he--well, he thinks that I--that he--I should rather say that we, he and I, would complete the book more satisfactorily if we were--You see, Agnes dear, he does not like coming here so frequently; he feels that he is trespassing upon your patience.”
“He is wrong, then,” said Agnes. “But what is the alternative that he proposes?”
“He thinks that we should get married at once and go to the Court together,” replied Clare, in a low voice.
“Well, you know, dearest Agnes, it is not six months since my dear mother's death: still--ah, dear, would she not wish to see me happy?”
“Yes; but is that saying that she would wish to see you married?”
“He is coming to talk to you about it after dinner to-night.”
Clare spoke quietly as she rose from her seat and left the room.
He came very late. Agnes only was in the drawing-room, for Clare had gone to her studio after dinner, saying she wished to finish one of the pictures.
He was as uneasy in addressing her as Clare had been. He began to speak the moment he entered the room. Agnes interrupted him.
“I have not come to see her. It is you whom I have come to see,” said he. “The fact is, my dear Agnes”--
“Go to her,” said Agnes. “Go to her and kiss her; it will be for the last time.”
She spoke almost sorrowfully. He was impressed by the tone.
“For the last time--to-night, you mean to say,” he suggested.
“You are mad,” he cried, after a pause, during which he stared at her. “You are mad; you do not know me--you do not know her.”
“I will not go to her--I will not leave this room until you have told me what you mean by saying these words. You shall tell me what these words mean--if they have any meaning.”
“Very well, I will tell you. A week ago you said some words to me. You put a question to me which I promised to answer at my own time. You said, 'Will you force me to wish that I had never seen you?' You said that to me--you--Claude Westwood--to me.”