a studied effect of eagerness.

"And what shall I gain by that?" her friend asked with no sign of
wincing.

"You'll have obliged me greatly."

"And what will be my reward?"

"Do you need a reward for an act of generosity?"

"Yes, when it involves a great sacrifice."

"There's no generosity without some sacrifice. Men don't understand such
things. If you make the sacrifice you'll have all my admiration."

"I don't care a cent for your admiration--not one straw, with nothing to
show for it. When will you marry me? That's the only question."

"Never--if you go on making me feel only as I feel at present."

"What do I gain then by not trying to make you feel otherwise?"

"You'll gain quite as much as by worrying me to death!" Caspar Goodwood
bent his eyes again and gazed a while into the crown of his hat. A
deep flush overspread his face; she could see her sharpness had at last
penetrated. This immediately had a value--classic, romantic, redeeming,
what did she know? for her; "the strong man in pain" was one of the
categories of the human appeal, little charm as he might exert in the
given case. "Why do you make me say such things to you?" she cried in a
trembling voice. "I only want to be gentle--to be thoroughly kind. It's
not delightful to me to feel people care for me and yet to have to try
and reason them out of it. I think others also ought to be considerate;
we have each to judge for ourselves. I know you're considerate, as much
as you can be; you've good reasons for what you do. But I really don't
want to marry, or to talk about it at all now. I shall probably never
do it--no, never. I've a perfect right to feel that way, and it's no
kindness to a woman to press her so hard, to urge her against her will.
If I give you pain I can only say I'm very sorry. It's not my fault; I
can't marry you simply to please you. I won't say that I shall always
remain your friend, because when women say that, in these situations, it
passes, I believe, for a sort of mockery. But try me some day."

Caspar Goodwood, during this speech, had kept his eyes fixed upon the
name of his hatter, and it was not until some time after she had ceased
speaking that he raised them. When he did so the sight of a rosy, lovely
eagerness in Isabel's face threw some confusion into his attempt to
analyse her words. "I'll go home--I'll go to-morrow--I'll leave you
alone," he brought out at last. "Only," he heavily said, "I hate to lose
sight of y