a cold, uninterested expression.

'I didn't know of this,' he proceeded, 'when we met that day in the
gardens, and when I made you so angry.

'I wasn't disposed to jest about what had happened.'

'But neither was I. You quite misunderstood me. Will you tell me how
that unpleasantness came to an end?'

'Oh yes. I admitted that I had been ill-mannered and obstinate.'

'How delightful! Obstinate? I have a great deal of that in my
character. All the active part of my life was one long fit of
obstinacy. As a lad I determined on a certain career, and I stuck to it
in spite of conscious unfitness, in spite of a great deal of suffering,
out of sheer obstinacy. I wonder whether Mary ever told you that.'

'She mentioned something of the kind once.'

'You could hardly believe it, I dare say? I am a far more reasonable
being now. I have changed in so many respects that I hardly know my old
self when I look back on it. Above all, in my thoughts about women. If
I had married during my twenties I should have chosen, as the average
man does, some simpleton--with unpleasant results. If I marry now, it
will be a woman of character and brains. Marry in the legal sense I
never shall. My companion must be as independent of forms as I am
myself.'

Rhoda looked into her teacup for a second or two, then said with a
smile,--

'You also are a reformer?'

'In that direction.'

He had difficulty in suppressing signs of nervousness. The bold
declaration had come without forethought, and Rhoda's calm acceptance
of it delighted him.

'Questions of marriage,' she went on to say, 'don't interest me much;
but this particular reform doesn't seem very practical. It is trying to
bring about an ideal state of things whilst we are yet struggling with
elementary obstacles.'

'I don't advocate this liberty for all mankind. Only for those who are
worthy of it.'

'And what'--she laughed a little--'are the sure signs of worthiness? I
think it would be very needful to know them.'

Everard kept a grave face.

'True. But a free union presupposes equality of position. No honest man
would propose it, for instance, to a woman incapable of understanding
all it involved, or incapable of resuming her separate life if that
became desirable. I admit all the difficulties. One must consider those
of feeling, as well as the material. If my wife should declare that she
must be released, I might suffer grievously, but being a man of some
intelligence, I sho