y more fit. What do you do here for exercise? Do you go
to the Englische Garten? Come now, will you? Let's have a drive.'

With sudden coldness Alma excused herself. The musician scrutinised her
rapidly, bit his lip, and looked round to the window; but in a moment
he had recovered his loud good humour.

'You'll hardly believe it, but it's the plain truth, that I came all
this way just to see you. I hadn't thought of coming to Germany till I
met Miss Leach and heard about you. Now I'm so far, I might as well go
on into Italy, and make a round of it. I wish you were coming too.'

Alma made no reply. He scrutinised her as before, and his features
worked as if with some emotion. Then, abruptly, he put a blunt question.

'Do you think people who go in for music, art, and that kind of thing,
ought to marry?'

'I never thought about it at all,' Alma replied, with a careless laugh,
striking a finger across the strings of the violin which she held on
her lap.

'We're generally told they shouldn't,' pursued Dymes, in a voice which
had lost its noisy confidence, and was a little uncertain. 'But it all
depends, you know. If people mean by marriage the ordinary kind of
thing--of course, that's the deuce. But it needn't be. Lots of people
marry nowadays and live in a rational way--no house, or bother of that
kind; just going about as they like, and having a pleasant, reasonable
life. It's easy enough with a little money. Sometimes they're a good
deal of help to each other; I know people who manage to be.'

'Oh, I dare say,' said Alma when he paused. 'It all depends, as you
say. You're going on to Italy at once?'

Her half-veiled eyes seemed to conceal amusement, and there was
good-humoured disdain in the setting of her lips. With audacity so
incredible that it all but made her laugh, Dymes, not heeding her
inquiry, jerked out the personal application of his abstract remarks.
Yes, it was a proposal of marriage--marriage on the new plan, without
cares or encumbrance; a suggestion rather than a petition; off-hand,
unsentimental, yet perfectly serious, as look and tone proclaimed.

'There's much to be said for your views,' Alma replied, with humorous
gravity, 'but I haven't the least intention of marrying.'

'Well, I've mentioned it.' He waved his hand as if to overcome an
unwonted embarrassment. 'You don't mind?'

'Not a bit.'

'I hope we shall meet again before long, and--some day, you know--you
may see the thing in anoth