CHAPTER XXV
THE DAY HAD ADVANCED to evening. Lord Montbarry and the bridal party had gone to the Opera. Agnes alone, pleading the excuse of fatigue, remained at the hotel. Having kept up appearances by accompanying his friends to the theatre, Henry Westwick slipped away after the first act, and joined Agnes in the drawing-room.
‘Have you thought of what I said to you earlier in the day?’ he asked, taking a chair at her side. ‘Do you agree with me that the one dreadful doubt which oppressed us both is at least set at rest?’
Agnes shook her head sadly. ‘I wish I could agree with you, Henry—I wish I could honestly say that my mind is at ease.’
The answer would have discouraged most men. Henry’s patience (where Agnes was concerned) was equal to any demands on it.
‘If you will only look ba
