together, Wentworth walking
beside her, with his hand on the rein.

The little bunch of palm was forgotten. It had done its part.

Wentworth talked and Fay listened, or seemed to listen. Her mind
wandered if Conrad pricked his ears, but he did not prick them very
often.

Wentworth felt that it was time Fay made more acquaintance with his
mind, and he proceeded without haste, but without undue delay to
indicate to her portions of his own attitude towards life, his point of
view on various subjects. All the sentiments which must infallibly have
lowered him in the eyes of a shrewder woman he spread before her with
childish confidence. He gave her of his best. He expressed a hope that
he did not abuse for his own selfish gratification his power of entering
swiftly into intimacy with his fellow creatures. He alluded to his own
freedom from ambition, his devotion--unlike other men--to the _small_
things of life, love, friendship, etc.: we know the rest. Wentworth had
been struck by that sentence when he first said it to the Bishop, and
he repeated it now. Fay thought it very beautiful. She proved a more
sympathetic listener than the Bishop.

I don't know whether like Mrs. Mouse she did not listen to all Mr. Mouse
said. But at any rate she noticed for the first time how lightly
Wentworth walked, how square his shoulders were, and the beauty of his
brown thin hand upon the bridle; and through her mind a little streak of
vanity came back to the surface, momentarily buried under the _debris_
of last night's emotion. Wentworth was interested in her. He admired
her. _He_ did not know anything uncomfortable about her--_as Magdalen
did_. He thought a great deal of her. It was nice to be with a person
who thought highly of one. It had been a relief to meet him. How well he
talked! What a wide-minded, generous man!

The gate into the gardens must have been hurrying towards them, it was
reached so soon. Wentworth, after a momentary surprise at beholding it,
stopped the cob, and helped Fay with extreme care to the ground. One of
Fay's attractions was her appearance of great fragility. Men felt
instinctively that with the least careless usage she might break in two.
She must be protected, cheered, have everything made smooth for her. She
was in reality much stronger than many of her taller, more
robust-looking sisters, who, whether wives or spinsters, if they
required assistance, had to look for it in quinine. An uneasy jealousy
of